Invisible Women
The feminine side of Nordic Folk speaks out and takes the stage

by Heather Henderson

Women are always their own worst enemies, because they stand back. And when they do decide to shout a bit, it’s usually a history of not having had the room to shout—you wait and wait, and there’s never space. So finally you blow up about something and then they say you’re premenstrual, or you’re having a midlife crisis, that kind of thing. There has to be this tag on it for men to understand why it’s all happening.
—Karen Tweed of Swåp

At the first Nordic Roots festival in 1999, it looked as if women in Nordic music weren’t allowed to do much except sing. Yes, one band had a female accordionist, but besides that, the musicians were all male. Things were more interesting at last year’s festival, which featured a large number of women playing many different instruments. Still, for the grand finale concert, designed to be an all-star instrumental blitz, there was only one woman on a stage packed with men—the Norwegian fiddler, Annbjørg Lien. So what is the status of women instrumentalists in Nordic music? When it gets right down to it, are the women supposed to be there primarily for decoration and for their pretty singing voices, while the guys take care of the manly business of playing the music?
    I spoke with accordionist Karen Tweed and fiddler Carina Normansson, who, together with two men (fiddler Ola Bäckström and guitarist Ian Carr), form Swåp. This quartet’s fresh, ebullient blend of traditional Swedish and British styles was one of the highlights of last year’s festival, and they’re returning this year. I also talked with Ellika Frisell, a Swedish fiddler who played with the band Rosenberg 7 last year and is scheduled to play two solo concerts this year. I asked them to talk about their experiences as women instrumentalists. Here is some of what they had to say.
Ellika: Only a few weeks ago we had a meeting in Stockholm for female instrumentalists. The idea for this meeting came from Lena Willemark [veteran singer and fiddler, member of the trio Frifot]. She wanted us to meet some people who are professional and playing, and just sit and talk. We talked for a whole day and shared lots of common experiences about how it is being a female instrumentalist. Lena said, “I’m tired of struggling; I feel I have reached a border where I don’t get anywhere any longer. There are still lots of things that are not good when you’re a woman and play together with men. And I don’t know what to do to change this thing.” She had met some of the young women who play instruments and she noticed that they didn’t know each other’s names and had never met the other female instrumentalists. So she said we must notice each other and help each other to get gigs and things like that. We talked a lot about the old fiddler groups, traditional instrumentalists in Sweden. There, if you are a woman, you don’t get as many concerts. The men give each other the gigs, and they forget about the female fiddlers and instrumentalists.
Carina: At this meeting, there was this marvelous fiddler that never had performed in Stockholm. She is married, and has two kids, and is living up in the countryside. She said she had people telling her that she played like a “whole man.” That’s the best you can get as a woman. But she didn’t let her femaleness stand in the way. She’s thinking music. Music! And that’s what it’s all about. And she never gets a gig! There are men around in the area who play, but they never ask her to come. Never.
Ellika: People have asked me this question for years and years: Are there any problems being a female fiddler? And I have always said, “Oh no, there’s no problem, it’s very easy, and it’s the same as if I was a man.” But some years ago, I gradually came to understand that I was wrong. In my family, where I grew up, it was totally natural that you were equal to the man. And I thought that for such a long time, I didn’t even see the signs that showed very early that it wasn’t like that.
Carina: When you’re younger and in that situation, you think it’s a personal issue—it’s you, not your sex, that’s wrong. “I’m wrong, I’m not good at this . . . ” It takes some years to find out that maybe it’s your sex that’s causing these things. What hit me was that most of us haven’t been thinking of ourselves as women or girls when we make music.
Karen: Carina’s exactly right—we don’t think of ourselves as different. The first time it struck me, the female thing, I was living in Leeds (I wasn’t a professional musician at that time, I was in college) and I used to go to a session one night a week at a pub. I was the only female playing in a group of about 20 or 30 men. It never struck me, because I was very naïve and I was only about 20 at the time. One night I went to the bar to go and get myself a beer, and I overheard this conversation—this guy talking to another guy, saying, “But this Karen, she’s such an amazing musician, and she’s a woman!” I remember hearing that and I remember feeling such a mixture of anger and flattery and incomprehension, and . . . oh, I’m great, but I’m a woman. This is a really big factor here. And suddenly you get that thing in your head where you question everything—are these people being nice to you and playing with you because you’re a woman and you smile a bit and you’re nice and sweet, or are they playing with you because you’re a good musician?
Ellika: I am one of those who have had the luck to get more well-known, even if I am a woman. But it has been harder. And now when you come to the modern folk musicians who play in groups, all our friends, it’s easier, but there are still problems that are more subtle. They are not so obvious, but they are there. For instance, if you play in a group, it’s okay if you stick to your role, but if you try to rearrange the tunes or have opinions about things that are more the men’s area, then you get problems, even with the young men. They kind of ignore you. You say, “Oh, could we do it like this, I hear the music like this in my head,” and then there is only a strange silence in the room. (laughs) Then you start to think, “Okay, I cannot do this, I am [only] good at playing.”
Karen: When you form a band with men and women, the men often don't have a problem saying their views and their ideas, and they like to have them seen through to the end, and they see a lot of women's ideas as interruptions. It's almost a blow against their personal pride. So many women who survive in bands survive by keeping their ideas back for a long time and going along with the most dominant ideas. When I do decide that I want to bring some ideas forward, it's almost like a big shock to the male members that I'm even suggesting something. It's often seem as stubborn or aggressive. There are men who do listen, but in my experience you have to make a really big point before they do. And a lot of men don't create that space for you. They just ignore you and they never come back to your idea.
Ellika: One problem that we have here in Sweden is the mythology. For instance, I was playing in one concert with about 10 persons and five or six of us were women. Everybody played very well. And in the biggest newspaper, the man who wrote about this concert didn't mention one women. He said, "Oh, those big men with their big hands coming out from the forest playing this music from deep history..." Like that. (laughs) He didn't see us! Very strange But it happens, and it happens often. It's because in our country the picture of the fiddler is very clear, and it's not a woman.
Karen: That genre of music is mostly men. It's only in the last few years that women have come to the fore. And it's great that there's an atmosphere that allows them to. But in our publicity at home, I saw that they said Carina is one of the best female fiddlers. That speaks volumes to me.
Ellika: And how should you look when you hold a fiddle, or any instruments, when you are a woman? What is the way of using your body? I mean, we have so many pictures about how to stand being a male fiddler. But how do you stand when you are a female fiddler? What do you wear? Because if you come in trousers and those clothes from the forest that the men wear, then you are a strange woman. And if you come in a dress, then you are not from the forest, so you are not a fiddler. So they don't see you, because there's something wrong with you. You don't fit their image. I think that is something very deep in ourselves, too. It's harder for us to find a way of doing it.
Karen: A guy came up to me and said, "Why are you wearing nice dresses on stage? Why are you being so glamorous?" And I said, "Am I not allowed to be glamorous?" And I have an accordion--that's the hardest part! You try making an accordion look glamorous, you'll have your work cut out for you! (laughs) So now, I just don't have a problem with any of that. The older you get, it doesn't matter anymore, because you get to know who you are. I'm only just getting to know who I am, what I'm good at and what are my weaknesses. And I choose to spend more time with my strengths. And if anyone has a problem with that, that's actually their problem, it's not my problem. If you want to feel like that about it and if you don't like the way I smile, and if you don't like the way I play and you don't like the clothes I wear, that's up to you. You don't have to come in the door.
Carina: We should be allowed to be whatever we want, and wear whatever we want to wear. Listen to the music, for heaven's sake, and if you have some thoughts, say what you think about that, instead of what we are like.
Ellika: I have only played two concerts that were all women. One at this meeting, and one some years ago. They were very different from the ones I normally do with mixed groups. For instance, it was much easier to make the program, and people just said "Yes," to ideas. I was astonished by that. It was more cooperative and positive. And if somebody came up with an idea, nobody said, "Oh, I don't think that's a good idea." People said, "Yeah, let's try that." So it was much easier. At the end of this concert, we did what you do very often in folk concerts in Sweden -- all the people that have been on stage play in a big group. The music we create is mostly worth nothing, it's only fun to see people standing on the stage together. But in this concert, and the other one I did, it was good music. That was very different. It was the first time I had heard really good music -- because people listened to each other. (laughs) And that was something that the audience noticed too. It was so different to play all together. I was the leader of one of the tunes and I just felt I could do anything and the whole group immediately did what I wanted. And we wouldn't rehearse at all. If I would do that with a group of mean, or a mixed group, nobody would even care to try to do what I wanted.
Karen: Women are always their own worst enemies, because they stand back. And when they do decide to shout out a bit, it's usually a history of not having the room to shout -- you wait and wait, and there's never space. So finally you blow up at something and then they say you're premenstrual, or you're having a midlife crisis, that kind of thing. There has to be this tag on it for men to understand why it's all happening. And I'm not talking about relationships, I'm talking about music. When you have the self-confidence and you have enough faith in yourself, then you do say these things and want to explore other ideas. Then you come up against a big barrier, because men really don't like it, they feel threatened. They feel bossed around by a nagging wife. And if you do it in a nice way, you're seen as being patronizing. And if you do it in an aggressive way, you're seen as being a bitch. So you can't actually win! (laughs) The only way to get through it is to choose people you can actually work with to a certain degree and then you do your own stuff elsewhere.
Carina: You need an oasis, like in a desert, in your musical life -- your female place -- to go there and get strength, and to realize that your ideas are not completely wrong all the time.

Ellika Frisell plays at the Southern Theater on Saturday, April 21, for two solo concerts: 7 p.m. and midnight. She will accompany dancers Joe Chvala and Karla Grotting one one piece. Tickets are $16 adv., $18 door. 1420 Washington Ave. S., Mpls. 612-340-1725 Swap play the Cedar Cultural Center Saturday April 21 at 9 p.m. opening for Hedningarna. Tickets are $16 adv., $18 door. Cedar & Riverside Ave., Mpls. 612-338-2674