Ida Løvli Hidle

Context
When: 18.11.2019
Where: Oslo, Norway
What: Arne Nordheim, sweatpants, opera pubs, making faces and more

Copyright © Erika Hebbert

C: Ida Løvli Hidle — tell us about yourself and who you are!

I: I’m an accordionist who works with a lot of different things. I studied classic accordion for 10 years, but I ended up doing almost everything else, something which I’m very satisfied with. The thing which I like the most, which feels like «my thing», is probably contemporary music — and to play it solo.

There’s just this incredible feeling digging into a piece of work, to sit there and just be in it, create it at the spot. I’m very excited about that with tonight’s concert (see video at bottom). I’ve been thinking that it is like playing contemporary music, just that I’m creating the piece there and then, and that it is me. I’m very much looking forward to that. It’s going to be exciting! 

Other than that… what can I say? I do so many different things!

C: How did it come to that, taking into consideration that you are classically trained?

I: I played a lot of classical — baroque, Russian goldies, stuff like that. For a long time I thought this was what I was supposed to play, and that this was the thing. I thought it was nice music, and I was enjoying it. But then one of my teachers asked med to play at piece by Arne Nordheim called Flashing as part of the 1905 jubileum (so this was in 2005). It is one of the most played accordion pieces ever, but I had never heard of it before. 

I accepted the invitation, and I thought the music was incredible. The thing which struck me was that I was finally allowed to play music which was about something else than just playing a piece correctly.  Contemporary music is about something completely different than just playing the piece as written. To me it’s about figuring out what the feelings of that piece are, discovering the pictures it entails — what is the piece all about — and then, with all my might, convey it to my audience. At that point it doesn’t matter if it is ugly or wrong. The most important thing is that you do it with all of you. That was liberating.

It is more about improvisation in the sense that it is formed there and then. No one has set a standard for how it should be played, so it is up to yourself to shape it into your own, and about copy something which has been executed perfect a thousand times already. Of course, I play a lot of other stuff, but that meeting with contemporary music was a revelation to me. This was during high school, so I played baroque and  a lot of other stuff after that as well. Not to mention that I was forced to play French varieté music, and I hated it! It was my bachelor grade teacher in Trondheim who meant that I had to master it. Then I came to Copenhagen, and the only thing people were talking about was contemporary music. Finally, I had come home!

C: Have you ever got to use the French varieté-music?

I: Yes, sure, and I think it is a good thing to have as many references as possible, so like I’ve said, I do play a a wide range of different things. I play a lot with opera singers and in different chamber situations. If a singer wants to do some Edith Piaf, then I know how it is supposed to sound. I’m thankful for all the references I’ve got, and I’m happy doing all these different things, even doing things that I don’t particularly like that much — to a certain extent! 

C: Is the accordion a swiss army knife-instrument?

I: Yeah, kind of. One of the reasons for that is because it’s a quite new instrument. It doesn’t have an arena where it’s like «here we need an accordion». It doesn’t have a place in the symphony orchestra, maybe some in theatre and a little bit in jazz, but just a tiny bit. So if you want to live off of playing accordion, you have to be versatile. Just a handful people can make their ends meet by just playing contemporary music or being a soloist with an orchestra. For most of us, just doing one thing is not an option.

C: What about tyrol-music? 

I: I can’t play that, actually

C: I guess that kind of music is mostly played with diatonic accordions?

I: The good thing about the accordion is that I can play anything on the instrument. I can play Argentinian tango, tyrol-music, all kinds of styles and genres because the instrument has so many possibilities. If I had been playing a diatonic accordion, I would have been more limited.

C: I know about some of your projects, but probably not all of them. In what constellations are you active nowadays? 

I: That’s also a lot of different things! I play a lot with Skadedyr. Skadedyr is by no means a soloist band, but I’m very comfortable not being the soloist as well. Skadedyr is one of few places where I can sit and just blend in together with the others. I think it is exciting to explore the different timbres the instrument has to offer. How can I make it sound like the other instruments? How can I contribute in the soundscape without attracting too much attention? Very often the accordion sticks out! If I stick out, I consciously do it very clearly, though. Most of the time you might not notice that I’m there, but that doesn’t mean I’m not adding to the pool.

I also play with Susanna Wallumrød. We have one constellation with six people, and another one where we’re only four. Those two constellations are doing different stuff. Other than that, I’m quite often being booked to chamber music festivals where there is a premiere work, and they need an accordionist to the sinfonietta. I’ve recently been to a chamber music festival in Trondheim and played a newly composed opera there. Then I played a new piece at the chamber music festival in Oslo right after that.

More and more composers are using the accordion now. That’s a new thing, and it feels like the snowball has really gained some momentum the last couple of years. Fun! Many new pieces are being written, and many composers are fond of the instrument and want to use it. It’s not so long ago we only had a handful of  works to play. 20 years ago things were looking completely different.

C: Are you writing yourself?

I: Not much. I’ve been thinking it’s kind of strange that I don’t. I’ve been writing some children’s theatre music. When you’ve played so many big works by some of the best composers around, it feels a bit ungraspable to write for your own instrument yourself. I don’t know where to start, but I do know what I don’t think is good. It just feels too overwhelming, in a way. It’s easier to write for other things, like theatre music. It’s more comprehendible, more direct and more concrete. Time is also a culprit. If I find myself with some extra time on my hands, I usually start working on another project in the ever increasing pile of work. 

C: What about the processes in the different constellations you’re in. Are they vastly different from one another? What is your role as an arranger of the music before it actually being played? I can imagine the process in Skadedyr being quite democratic? 

I: Absolutely, but I can’t really say that I have a very leading role in Skadedyr. I hadn’t really played that type of music prior to joining Skadedyr, so I started out with an enormous respect for the other musicians there — and I still have a lot of respect for them. My background is different, and I know what I’m good at, and I also know that I’m not so good at what they are good at. That’s why I never felt for taking the lead in those processes. But if I have anything I really want to say, I’m always being listened to.

C: What about Susanna? Does she write very detailed, or is it more like «Ida, I want this type of vibe here»? 

I: Susanna mainly writes chords and lyrics. An exception is the Go dig my grave project, where we use a lot of baroque music, so we use the source material. With the Brotherhood project we have a different approach. Sometimes Susanna has some ideas, but we also improvise a lot.

I also think that Susanna wants us to find our own things, so I feel like I’ve been given ample of freedom. Since we’re not so many people in that band, you also have to take some more responsibility — you can’t just surf on top of 11 other people. My part is a much bigger part of the whole picture. I have to say that Susanna is really good at that; letting people feel safe in the situation. I have grown a lot from working and playing with her.

C: Let’s return to your solo playing. We actually shared the bill once, when we were playing at the official opening of Krona in Kongsberg (our home city). I remember we were talking about conveying music. Correct me if I’m wrong, but if I remember correctly, then the theatrical aspect is a central element in your communication with the audience. Facial expressions, gestures, stuff like that. Or?

I: It depends on what I play. It is important to differentiate between different pieces. The piece I played at that opening is a very theatrical piece in and out of itself, and then I think it makes sense to express that with my whole being. I’m very interested in what happens between artist and audience. How can I make them visualize what’s going on in the music? If I had played that piece by glaring into my sheet music, they would have gotten a completely different experience. 

I’m very conscious about these things when I play, and also how I look. It might sound superficial, but the way I look or express myself needs to have a correlation to what I am playing.

C: So you’re not always wearing sweatpants, then? (before the interview, Ida said she has only been wearing sweatpants lately)

I: No, it’s not always sweatpants. When you play classical music, that is unheard of.

C: Why?

I: I don’t know. People fall off their chair if I show up in sweatpants.

C: I once talked with a violin player who got a verbal beating for coming to her one-on-one lesson in shabby clothes. Clothes do, of course, play a part in how you feel and how other people see you, but sometimes I think we’ve gone too far.

I: I agree. I remember being part of a talent show for youth (Ungdommens Kulturmønstring) when I was 16. I was wearing a pair of blue 70s flared trousers and a sweater from the same time period which I had gotten from my mom, and I felt so cool. I actually got feedback that my clothes didn’t fit to what I was playing — in a youth talent show!

I do get it to certain extent, though. You have to adapt to what you are playing. It looks dorky to play something dead serious wearing flowery, fluttering garments. In a classical context the musician is normally not the focus of attention, and then you have to wear black.

C: We’re doing this interview at Rinzai zen-senter Oslo. As part of the Zen practice here, we encourage practitioners to wear black or dark clothes, simply to not draw too much attention.

I: If you are a soloist you can take up as much focus as you want, but if you’re in an ensemble you can’t just do that out of the blue. I often feel that I’m dressing in my classical costume when doing classical concerts, and that doesn’t feel like me. In the jazz world I feel there is more room for wearing different kinds of stuff, and that is liberating. When I play a classical concert, there are not so many options. You need to look respectable. 

I think this «what should I/you wear»-thing, also as an audience member, can make people afraid for classical music. If people think that they have to follow this or that norm — and they don’t know exactly what that norm is — then maybe they just won’t go there, and that’s a shame. It’s quite hilarious when I come to opera productions wearing sweatpants. It’s like they don’t know which joke to start with. They’re just completely dumbfounded. 

C: At the same time it seems as if though there are forces trying to create some informal arenas for serious/classical music. I haven’t been to one of these myself, but I heard about this concept called Klubb Klassisk. It seems as though they’re trying to get the classical music down on the floor. I heard Sara Övinge, who is one of the people running it, talk about it. There’s a bar, you sit in comfortable chairs, or at the floor even, a DJ. I also remember someone saying they were trying too hard. Like «Now the music is finished, let’s all go the bar now and have a beer». 

I: I think opera pubs are genius. They’ve got it figured out. My in-laws are all opera singers, and for 10 years we have arranged an opera pub up north at Kjerringøy. People love it! It’s informal, and people are sitting next to each other at long tables. People up there use to say that they’re «going to the opera», when they’re going to Bryggeoperaen (brygge = bridge)! I always play some contemporary music there. I make sure that the package is easy for them to swallow; I tell them about the work, and people buy it. As performers, we should be very careful about underestimating the audience.

I guess we’re returning to the topic of how you are presenting contemporary music — actually all type of music — and that you have to do it in a good way. It’s about being in the music and convey it with all your heart. Then people get touched, and I feel I can defend why I’m doing music. I can do something which touches people, and that’s important to me.

I sometimes also worked together with directors. It can be hard to see yourself and actually know if what you are doing is working or not. I also capture myself on film from time to time, and in general I plan quite a bit. But not everything! They do that in China, I’ve tried it — I studied there — and that just gets too much. It’s too rigged, and then it’s not real anymore.

C: It needs to be some slack there, some space.

I: It’s hard to pull off, and you won’t pull it off unless you commit 100%.

C: I think you’re onto some very interesting things now. I myself have been thinking that we see with our ears and hear with our eyes. Do you also feel that the corporeal, the gestural, makes you a better player? When you see a violin player moving into or beyond the top register making a face, it’s contributing to the perceived music. 

I: I guess so. I’ve actually got this twitch that I’m trying to get rid of. I think it is really annoying. A good strategy is to plan to do something else if you know that that particular twitch will show up at that exact point. But that one for me shows up quite unconsciously. Some people have this thing that if they’re running into a tough spot in the music, they do something with their lip. I don’t think I’ve got that one!

I think there’s some truth in what you are saying. It’s about showing that «it’s getting more intense here». Very often it gets more and more intense the higher the pitch goes. If you can show it with your face, you are more likely to draw the listener into what you are doing than if you look totally unaffected. I don’t think it matters so much what you actually do, as long as what you are doing doesn’t conflict too much with what you are playing, and that you always manifest the feeling you want to convey and inhabit that with your whole being.

The thing which is special about accordion, and which I’ve been thinking about quite a lot, is that it is one of few instruments where you’re free from shoulders up. We don’t use our head for anything, except changing the register with our chin — which by the way looks stupid, but there’s no way around it. Nevertheless, almost all other instruments are being played in a way so that the players are either looking at the place they are playing or using their mouths. I can’t look at what I’m playing with accordion, I have to feel my way around. I’ve got my whole head free, so why don’t use it?

People should do exactly what they want, but my vision is that musicians could be more conscious about that thing. At least I think a lot of musicians are unconscious about it. Of course you can play fantastic music without using your face, but if you really go into it, it comes a little bit by itself.

I was thinking about it yesterday, actually. I was sitting in a jury in a youth competition (Ungdommens Musikkmesterskap). There were 5 incredibly talented, young accordionists. Most of what they play is perfect, but I don’t see any feelings. I don’t see any passion, and they don’t draw me in to the music. I don’t think it would take a lot to make me feel more included. There are some simple measures one could take to accomplish just that.

Some of the musicians I admire the most are the ones who are good at exactly that. You can play your shirt off, but if you can’t express it, then why don’t put on a CD instead? That’s why we go to concerts, to see the music. 

C: In jazz there’s this «hot on the inside, cool on the outside»-thing. You stand there, immovable, but you’re playing like there’s no tomorrow. Another one is a Miles Davis’ quote: «If they act too hip, you know they can’t play shit». 

I: It can quickly become too much. Balance is the key.

C: I think that contemporary music is not as abstract as classical music. In the classical music world, feelings are convoluted in a very obscure and ephemeral medium. In baroque music different phrases mean different things; a chromatic descending line tells us a certain thing but in the abstract beholder of sound. Then I think it helps to manifest it through body, face and gestures. Maybe it’s different with jazz music. Maybe it’s not so abstract?

I: That’s probably also why I’m not so fond of playing baroque music. It needs to be played correctly, and you don’t gain or win much by immersing yourself in it. It’s different in the contemporary music world; you need to conjure up the music, it needs to vibrate from within. A lot of classical music is composed with the sole purpose of sounding nice and please the listener.

If you play something which is very nice, then why not look a little happy? It’s as easy as that. I don’t believe that you are feeling a happy melody if you look sad or grumpy.

C: Maybe you also get happy by making yourself look happy? To create a sort of emotional feedback loop between yourself and the music?

I: I’ve got a story about that as well. I was around 10 years old when my aunt died, and I thought it was terrible. At that time I was practicing towards the annual Norwegian accordion championship (in which everyone is participating every year). I was playing a beautiful, melancholic melody, and I was thinking about her when I was playing it. I remember becoming very sad, but playing that specific piece was thus also an outlet for that feeling. In addition, I was playing a varieté piece which was a bit «dippy-dippy-dee», some Pietro Frosini stuff. I remember thinking: «I can’t play this piece with the same sad feeling.» So I tried to feel happy instead, look happy, and it worked!

That competition turned out really well. The response I got was overwhelming, especially the comments about the nocturne (the one reminding me of my aunt), and that I had added something new to it. «Maybe I’m on to something,» I remember thinking. When you’re attending a Schools of Music and Performing Arts school (Kulturskole), the teachers don’t have time to deal with those kind of things. Then it’s more or less about getting it right.

C: We need to wrap up. Do you have any other interests you are passionate about?

I: I feel that everything I do is related to my musicianship, which I’m very passionate about! If I had to mention something, it would be that I need to have access to nature. I would say it’s one of the most important things in my life. That’s also why I’m very happy with my current living situation, which is only a few steps away from the forest. It doesn’t matter in what way, as long as I’m in touch with nature somehow. Without nature I don’t function properly. If I’m stressed out, the only thing which actually works, is to go out into the forest. It has an immediate effect on me.

C: Did you ever play out in nature?

I: It doesn’t work very well with accordion. But sure, I’ve played outside. Everyone’s played outside at least once, right? But it’s not like I feel that I’m one with nature when I play outside. The nature is for me. The accordion needs to wait back home.