Karin Rehnqvist (2019)
Blodhov/ Bloodhoof
Monodrama for mezzo-soprano and eight instruments
Composed for Lena Willemark and ensemble recherche
Text from the poem Blodhov by Ger∂ur Kristný
Published in English as Bloodhoof, translation by Rory McTurk
Swedish translation by John Swedenmark
Adapted by Karin Rehnqvist and Svante Grogarn
Duration: 40 minutes
“Sabre-toothed darkness prowled through the firmament…”
The libretto for Blodhov was adapted from Ger∂ur Kristný’s dramatic longform poem of the same
name. The poem is a retelling of an ancient Icelandic story. In it, the god Freyr catches sight of
the giantess Ger∂ur. He sends his servant Skírnir to carry Ger∂ur to him, riding Blodhov, his
dark, high-withered, powerful horse. At first she says no, but when he threatens her, she goes
with him to save her family. Every night for nine nights, Freyr rapes her.
Ger∂ur herself narrates the poem, and the telling is extremely condensed and emotionally
powerful. I found the text arresting. I was incredibly inspired to make music of it.
BUT, composing the piece took a long time. Several years. Every moment of the music—every
bit of its expression and its emotion—had to be completely true and believable. And in the fall of
2017, midway through the work, the real world intruded. The #metoo movement exploded and
with so many frightening and authentic stories of assault from women around the world, I was
unable to keep writing. I had to take a break.
Blodhov is composed for the Swedish folk singer Lena Willemark and the Freiburg-based
ensemble recherche, the well-known contemporary music specialists. With their help, and Lena’s
refined and unique way of using her voice and other instruments, I tried to create a new sound
world: everything from animal sounds and gurgles to loud herding calls to subtle ornaments;
from thin, bubbling metal sheets that mimic water pools to gongs like clattering hooves. I used
uncommon instruments like the baritone oboe, the bass flute and the contrabass clarinet to
heighten the drama.
And I too tried to condense and reduce. A dark theme like assault requires saying just what is
absolutely necessary. For what remains of music or musicality in violence and rape?
“My body faltered
In the face
of blows and kicks
no sooner
ripped apart
than cobbled
together”
Movements
Prolog (Prologue)
1. Minnena (Memories)
2. Vår (Spring) – instrumental
3. Skírnir
4. Lament
5. Huggtandsmörkret (Sabre-toothed darkness)
6. Nej (No)
7. Mamma (Mother)
8. Tanken längtar hem (In my mind I fly home)
9. Nio nätter av fasa (Nine nights of fear)
Blodhov was premiered at the Point Music Festival at the Gothenburg Concert Hall on 24 May 2019. Commissioned by the Swedish Performing Arts Agency (Musikverket)
Composed for Lena Willemark and ensemble recherche
Staged by Svante Grogarn.
Text in English
Ger∂ur Kristný, translated from Icelandic by Rory McTurk,
adapted by Karin Rehnqvist
Prologue – lamenting
- Memories
Memories
snow which I press
in my hands
knead into ball
and throw
but only
in my mind
snow does not settle here
The bridge reaches out
from waving grass
into smoky grey cloud
There is my country
wrapped in calm of night
steeped in steel-cold ice
Here the moon watches
over valleys and rivers
in my homeland, over chasms
and dizzying steepness
- Spring – instrumental
- Skírnir
Skírnir, –
fixed me
with his gaze
His horse
of ample stature
stood with head held high
dark of hue
as if hewn
from darkness
His mane
a sunlit field
his tail
a sheaf of corn
¨¨¨¨
To them I would tell
the story of the steed
The clattering of hooves
on the slabs of rock
was like breaking of bones
Skirnirs voice rose
over dusk-covered trees
The god Freyr stole
into Ó∂inn’s throne
looking over all worlds
¨¨
his longing grew
His love had gone reeling
in mad career
not eating, not speaking
he would find no rest
What was awaited
now was his bride
- Lament
- Sabre-toothed darkness
( Whispered by the musicians)
Sorrow
Solitude
Suffering
Evil the evening
That the day had reached
(Whispered by the singer, prerecorded)
Sabre-toothed darkness
prowled through
the firmament
I let myself fall
In a heap in the grass
burrowed into the earth
descending
the descent roaring
in the portals of my ears
I dived
deep under rocks
then sprang
from gullies
walked over stretches
of ice hard as iron
skin wasting away
flesh bruised and broken
from crushing of bones
My eyes
peered ahead
flickering like fish
I was reduced
to terror
He scored
a new scar
on my skin each night
My body faltered
in the face
of blows and kicks
no sooner
ripped apart
than cobbled
together
with a foot stuck fast
under a chair
a hand
in the corner
fingers all over the floor
¨¨¨
- No!
No
I would stay
remain in the place where I knew
every cranny
and creek
No
A leaf-branched forest
bearing apples of gold
Would I care for A bite?
No
It would only
stick fast in my throat
No
I had gifts in full
from my father
No
with an envoy brandishing
a hate-infused sword
I said yes, I would come
and saw my face,
dead, reflected
in Skırnir’s sword
- Mother
In the midst of the darkness
my mother
enfolded me
in her armes
conjured me to appear
before her once more
in a shade that glided
from under a rock
in the mist
of a forest dawn
- In my mind I fly home
Night spreads
its blue veil
over hill and dale
My son lies awake
Unwilling to sleep
I carry him
over cornfields and meadows
The waves pay away
at the foreshore
Mother, behold my son!
Tiny, with hairy brows
and wolf-grey eyes
Sleek as a sea-fish
On the shoreline stands
a handsome throne
It’s homewards with longing
that my heart flies on
- Nine nights of fear
Nine nights
nine nights’ worth
of fear
one night
after the other
each worse
than the last
¨¨¨¨
skin wasting away
flesh bruised and broken
from crushing of bones
¨¨¨
Mother
¨¨¨
no sooner
ripped apart
than cobbled
together
¨¨¨
Mother
