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March 7, 2008
ANITA ALAN Carmel, CA
In a few small museums, you can feel the presence of the person to whom those places are dedicated.
In Norway, The Ibsen Museum in Oslo and Grieg’s Troldhaugen in Bergen are two such places where
the spirit of each creative genius seems somehow present. Use your imagination, and you can feel
colleagues, Henrik Ibsen and Edvard Grieg, collaborating in one another’s homes, laughing over
the antics of Faustlike Peer Gynt. Perhaps Ibsen shared with Grieg his secret “devil’s orchestra,”
the diminutive diabolic figurines he kept hidden in his desk drawer for inspiration. He once said,
“There have to be trolls in what I write.” In many works, that could be said of Grieg as well.
The personal spirit of Ibsen-Museet (The Ibsen Museum) allows the visitor to catch glimpses of
the playwright’s personal treasures that he shared with so few. Unthinkable somehow that this uniquely
Nordic voice, the native son considered the Father of Modern Drama, never received Norway’s coveted
Nobel Prize for Literature. An astonishing omission!
Ibsen received worldwide acclaim however. As proof, the museum displays an elegant array of medals and ribbons awarded him by royalty and dignitaries throughout Europe and the Middle East. From Ibsen’s window, he could see the Royal Palace and Slottsparken, the exclusive Castle Gardens. King Oscar II presented Ibsen with a key to Dronningparken, the vast, private gardens of Slottsparken reserved for the Queen—an area closed to the public. Here, Ibsen could take leisurely strolls in his last years. He suffered a series of strokes that left him unable to write, and the privilege to saunter the Palace grounds out of public view was a gesture of deepest meaning for him.
At this time in his life, Ibsen’s plays had been translated into numerous languages, and he lived
to find himself Norway’s greatest tourist attraction. From his balcony, one sketch shows him as
he gave a speech on his 70th birthday to a torchlight assemblage of university students.
From his comfortable drawing room, Ibsen overlooked Drammensveien, the street that borders one side of the Palace Gardens. Were he to return today, he would find the place newly named Henrik Ibsens Gate. In 2006, in the centennial year of his death, Oslo renamed the portion of Drammensveien that leads from National Theater (which contains the world’s largest collection of his work) to the National Library. Ibsen’s museum stands about half way between the two. The location better suited Henrik and his wife Susannah than their first quarters at Victoria Terrace where they lived from 1891-5. Though an upscale, elegant residence, Susannah found the location draughty, damp, and with too many stairs for her condition. Arthritis troubled her, and she spent many winters on the Continent. Once near the Palace however, she stayed beyond Ibsen’s death until her own in 1914. In 1994, the museum moved from the Norwegian Folk Museum back to its original location.
The personal effects of Ibsen give the impression that he just stepped out and may return shortly. Yes, the curators have safely encased the artifacts, but the items are chosen with such care that they feel placed by their owner just a short time ago. For example, Ibsen’s travel kit, with its crystal vials and bottles, and sterling silver caps, remain in their original leather case. His shaving brush and soap dish sit next to his carved, ivory-handled razors. Ibsen monogrammed them himself. He had an artistic hand, and enjoyed painting watercolor landscapes, plein air-style. No doubt, this helped with set design. The interior suite of rooms has the enchanting warmth of personal photos and paintings. The rooms have such authenticity. Curators still work on gathering original furnishings. They supplied his entire study with original furniture. As you enter, the museum devotes the lower floor to various displays and provides room for recitations, theater and playwriting discussions, and theatrical performances.
A four-block walk leads you to the historic National Theater, which has staged every work of Ibsen’s
numerous times. Statues of playwright Henrik Ibsen and author Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson by sculptor
Stephan Sinding stand on columns that match columns on the building itself. The two colleagues
became relatives several years before their statues were commissioned when Sigurd, Ibsen’s son
married Bergliot, Bjørnson’s daughter. Bjørnson wrote Norway’s national anthem—which Travels to Norway
readers since September may recall that Garrison Keillor sang in its entirety at the Sail-Away
Party as we left Copenhagen! The stunning Rococo hall, Nationaltheatret, holds festivals and produces
the work of playwrights worldwide, but the building’s original purpose was as a venue for performing
Ibsen’s prolific works. It was completed in 1899 when Oslo was still called Christiania. We had
lunch on a park bench, admiring the grounds, and noticed a future billing of Glassmenasjeriet (The
Glass Menagerie) by Tennessee Williams and wished for the time to see an American play in Norwegian—a
play familiar enough to understand in any language.
Author Aside: The personal reasons for taking this journey began sinking in today at Ibsen’s bronze statue. I wanted to stand in the footsteps of my good friend Helmuth Deetjen, the Norwegian immigrant who built Big Sur Inn, the subject of my book. To my delight, I found the precise place he posed for an old sepia-toned photo in 1924, just before steaming for sEllis Island as an able-bodied crew member on the “Bergensfjord.”
Next week, still in Oslo, join us at the Viking Museum.
PHOTOS: This page top to bottom 1. The National Theater in Oslo. 2. Preview: “The Glass Menagerie” by Tennessee Williams. 3. Play-goers enjoy summer dining near the National Theater. Opposite Page 4. Statue of Dramatist Henrik Ibsen by Stephan Sinding stands in front of the National Theater. 5. Exceptional Displays at the Ibsen Museum bring the man and his work to life. 6. Ibsen’s personal shaving effects. 7. Four of the numerous worldwide awards bestowed on Ibsen. All photos by Anita Alan.
Norwegian American Weekly
