Ouverture

In a city that is home to one of Europe’s oldest music societies, there has naturally been a strong concern for providing the orchestra with proper working conditions. Edvard Grieg, with experience from the great music capitals, was keen to secure a suitable concert hall for his hometown. In 1894 he was occupied with plans to build a wooden concert hall at Engen. At the same time, however, Christian Michelsen was campaigning for the construction of a new theatre building, and the theatre enthusiasts snatched the site right from under Grieg’s nose. As a result, the concert hall plans came to nothing.

The idea of a suitable concert hall lived on, and throughout his tenure as chairman of “Harmonien,” Fridtjof Sundt remained the idea’s most ardent advocate. Finding an appropriate site was the primary challenge. The city fire of 1916 necessitated extensive redevelopment in the city centre. Could this perhaps also open the door, even slightly, to a music hall?

I 1917 ba styret i "Harmonien" kommunen om å stille til disposisjon en tomt av passende størrelse, slik at byen kunne reise et førsteklasses konsertlokale. I de påfølgende årene ble det fremmet mange tomteforslag. Et av forslagene var der hvor Telegrafbygningen står i dag. Ingen av forslagene fikk nødvendig støtte. Kanskje tiden ennå ikke var moden for å løse en slik stor sak? En ting som imidlertid tidlig ble avklart var at konserthuset, når det en gang stod ferdig, skulle oppkalles etter Edvard Grieg. Intet kunne være bedre løftestang for en slik sak enn det mest lysende navn i norsk musikkhistorie.

Intermezzo

In 1934, the board of “Harmonien” realized that only nine years remained until the celebration of Edvard Grieg’s centenary. A committee was appointed, with shipowner Haakon B. Wallem as the driving force. They identified Lars Hilles gate 3a as a suitable site for a concert hall and in 1938 asked the owner, the City of Bergen, to transfer it free of charge to “Harmonien.” The music society would then take the lead in erecting an Edvard Grieg Hall. Only through a so-called mayoral decision in 1941 was the application granted. The Nazi “Ministry of Culture” glimpsed the potential for a substantial propaganda gain if the hall could be completed by the composer’s jubilee in June 1943. Soon, however, the authorities had other matters to attend to, and the building project was shelved.

When normal times returned, wartime decisions were deemed unlawful and reversed. The Grieghallen site was caught up in this process, and the municipality reclaimed it. This resulted in such an uproar that the city council in 1947 found it necessary to reverse the reversal. The site was thus earmarked in accordance with the earlier decision. But only after Haakon B. Wallem, in a meeting with the municipality, declared himself willing and able to raise the necessary funds to build the hall, was the deed signed. Generously, Wallem himself put one million kroner on the table. That gift could take the project far—but not all the way. On Wallem’s commission, architect Fredrik Konow Lund prepared the first sketches for the utilization of the site in Lars Hilles gate. Construction costs were estimated at 7.8 million kroner. The driving force behind the project, however, disappeared when Haakon B. Wallem fell ill and died in 1952.

The Grieghallen Site, March 1968 – A Passage in D Minor

During the 1950s, many extensive construction projects were completed in and around Bergen—but no Grieghallen. It is true that “Harmonien” established a broadly composed Grieghallen committee with representatives from numerous organizations. It should have been able to achieve something, but it was never convened and thus never began its work. The music society’s major 200th anniversary was approaching, and in 1959 the chairman of “Harmonien,” Fredrik Skancke Andersen, promised that a pure concert hall for 2,000 people would be completed for the celebrations in 1965. Konow Lund continued to work on the architectural aspects of the case, and both in writing and verbally he expressed that Lars Hilles gate 3a was too narrow and unsuitable for a concert hall. Konow’s final proposal in 1961 was poorly received, and calls were made for an architectural competition. After little or nothing happened on the music society’s side, the executive committee intervened, demanding that an architectural competition be announced no later than 1 March 1962.

“Harmonien” now appointed a Nordic jury to evaluate new site alternatives. There were many by then. While the leadership of “Harmonien” let the years pass without taking firm action, the public began to take an active interest in finding a solution. Architects in particular showed significant activity, and no one could prevent the hall from becoming a wandering project.

For a year, site after site was drawn into the debate and presented as more representative than the former railway marshalling yard in Lars Hilles gate. No progress was visible.

Attacca 

The entire matter was hanging in the air with loose ends when civil engineer David Lie Eide entered the debate with a forceful article entitled “But There Was No Grieghallen” (Bergens Tidende, 6 November 1963). Solid documentation showed that nothing of significance had happened over many years. Plans had been delayed. The lesson to be learned was that “from now on, the work would have to be organized in a completely different way if this large and difficult matter was to be resolved at all.” As a rational solution, he proposed establishing Grieghallen as an independent business venture with its own board and a representative council.
 

As a member of “Harmonien’s” representative assembly, Lie Eide had repeatedly tried in vain to accelerate the process. His public proposal implied removing an overdue affair from the hands of the music society’s day-to-day leadership. Between the lines lay the suggestion that the music-loving engineer was making himself available. David Lie Eide possessed both technical and financial expertise, as he had demonstrated elsewhere. Few realized that he also had the particular determination required to push through a construction project of the scale now envisaged. To “Harmonien’s” leadership, Lie Eide’s intervention must have appeared as an ultimatum. The effect was immediate. The Grieghallen committee was summoned—for the first time in eleven years. Lie Eide was elected chairman of the large committee and of its first effective working body, a three-man committee in which festival director Gunnar Arne Jensen and programme editor Frank M. Falch were able collaborators. With a thorough report, they laid the foundation for further work.
 

The committee defined what they wanted Grieghallen to be. The primary goal had been to provide a pure concert hall. Good working conditions for the city’s symphony orchestra and ample space for its audience were absolute requirements. Now the scope was expanded. Grieghallen had to be seen in a broader context. The hall would become the focal point for both “Harmonien” and the Bergen International Festival; it should accommodate NRK’s growing activities at its Bergen regional office, and serve as an auditorium for the University.
 

The three-man committee truly had a vision: Grieghallen “was to create the conditions for diverse cultural activity and become the core of a West Norwegian cultural centre.”
 

Furthermore, the committee found that the original, somewhat shapeless site of just under six decares in Lars Hilles gate could be expanded by one and a half decares northward toward Nygård School. The municipality now wished to see Grieghallen completed by 1970—the city’s 900th anniversary. It ensured that the remaining required site area was made available. With this addition, the City of Bergen considered itself relieved of further responsibility for the project.

A Dane Designs Bergen’s New Cultural Monument

Carried by optimism, a Nordic architectural competition was announced with a deadline of 1 February 1965. After three weeks of evaluating 70 different proposals, the jury awarded first prize to the 28-year-old Danish architect Knud Munk. “In a clear architectural unity, Knud Munk has succeeded in bringing together the heterogeneous elements the building is to contain,” the jury concluded. Knud Munk came to Bergen to receive the prize for a building that would leave a lasting mark on the central part of a city he had never seen before. He was surprised that the neighbouring buildings on the site were so tall—he had not imagined that.

Crescendo 

Now the enthusiasts launched major campaigns to raise construction capital. The Arts Council pledged six million kroner. The state contributed 2.5 million kroner for the use of the hall as a university auditorium. Wallem’s original gift had now grown to 1.5 million.

Grieghallen AS was formally established in 1968. Its owners were the “holy trinity” of Bergen’s cultural life: “Harmonien” subscribed to 20 shares, while Den Nationale Scene and the Bergen International Festival took 15 each. Lie Eide was now chairman of the company’s board, chairman of the working committee, and soon also chairman of the building committee. His most important ally was Baard Sæverud, business manager from 1964 until the hall was completed. The first fundraising campaign carried the slogan “Grieghallen 1970 or Your Money Back.” The idea was to encourage people to give 200 kroner per year for five years—manageable for many, though not for all. The campaign as a whole raised 1.2 million kroner. “Harmonien” continued to perform free of charge, and the theatre contributed its share. The dress rehearsal of Hello, Dolly! became a magnificent evening, with contributions from local entertainers as well as the theatre’s own staff. Of the 50-kroner ticket price, only one krone went into the theatre’s cash box; the rest fell into Grieghallen’s large pocket.

The Edvard Grieg Memorial Fund was established for tax reasons, and a branch was also set up in the United States. This initiative was almost a failure: disappointingly few contributions from the US reached Grieghallen. “Grieghallen 1970 or Your Money Back” became the largest single campaign aimed at ordinary Bergen residents. Among the many small contributions came sums that truly mattered. Banks and shipping companies each contributed millions. Insurance companies and industrial firms followed the city’s long tradition of patronage. The public sector was now challenged to put the final crown on the project with the necessary final financing. In November 1967, the first spadeful of earth was turned.

Grazioso 

On the opening day of the Bergen International Festival in May 1968, King Olav laid the foundation stone. A copper casket containing the architect’s drawings, the day’s newspapers, and Norwegian coins was sealed into the concrete wall of the orchestra pit. The act was accompanied by royal words: 

“May the hall rise and be completed according to plan, and I am certain that it will then serve its purpose as a source of culture and joy for Bergen and its citizens, and for Norwegians far beyond Bergen’s borders. May its name be a binding commitment to high cultural standards and creative ability!”

In December 1970, a topping-out ceremony was held in the raw structure of the commercial section, where the Grieghallen board for the first time let loose with sandwiches and beer for staff and supporters. At the same time, it was announced to the public that the promise made in the early phase had been kept: Grieghallen stood completed by the end of 1970. That promise held, even though many had imagined the building would be ready for use. No donors demanded their money back. During 1971, tenants moved into the commercial part of the building—NRK, the administrations of “Harmonien” and the Festival, the Wine Monopoly, a bank, a shipping company, and a doctor.

A Discordant Note 

Problems now began to surface again. Thirty-seven million kroner had been invested in the project, and the funds were exhausted. Construction, which was expected to continue, came to a complete halt. The stoppage would last nearly five years. During these years, Bergen residents lashed out with the whip of sarcasm at the planners.
 

“What did I say?” Wasn’t Grieghallen now looming as a monument to irresponsible private individuals who started building before everything was fully financed? This dreadful building, a scrap heap of rust that discoloured the hall’s stone steps and stained respectable people’s coats. The city centre had been polluted with “a concrete monstrosity, a gigantic bunker.” Voices from the capital joined the local chorus. Dagbladet declared the hall the very symbol of Bergen’s megalomania.

New Baton 

While criticism rained down, the supporters of Grieghallen worked tirelessly to find a solution to the financial problems. After much back and forth, broken promises from two governments, and discouragement within the working committee, Per Grieg was approached by “Harmonien’s” chairman, Njaal Sæveraas, with a question: Would you consider joining our board? “Yes,” replied Per Grieg, “if I can represent ‘Harmonien’ on the Grieghallen board.” For a long time he had been looking at the empty shell and, like many other Bergen residents, experienced the sadness of the hall’s neglected potential. Per Grieg now took responsibility for the financing work, a task he carried out with brilliant results. A private fundraising round formed the foundation of the new financing plan. Finance Minister Per Kleppe was persuaded to approve a state-guaranteed bond loan at a low interest rate—so favourable it was almost a gift. The state’s support triggered a new loan from Bergen Bank, guaranteed by the City of Bergen.

Coda 

Work on completing the hall finally resumed, and in the final hectic phase the reasoning was likely that “if we now finish the building, no one can take it from us.” Finish the hall first—deal with the problems afterward. The construction was clearly extraordinarily complex, and it was later acknowledged that maintaining oversight had become increasingly difficult. But it was difficult to foresee that the roof of the hall, budgeted at two million kroner, would ultimately cost six million, nor had overtime work on the order of eleven million been anticipated. Normally, a construction schedule is adjusted two or three times during a project. For Grieghallen, it was completely reworked around twenty times. That says a great deal about how difficult and demanding the Grieghallen project really was.
 

Grande finale 

On 12 May 1978, smoke bombs explode and pistol shots crack. Wispy clouds billow beneath the red roof. As the smoke drifts away, one glimpses the orchestra of the Music Society Harmonien performing for the first time on Grieghallen’s stage. Karsten Andersen conducts Grieg’s Norwegian Dances, and the tones fall like manna from heaven. At last!

Could we ever have imagined such wonderfully clear and focused sound in a concert hall in Bergen? This is how “Harmonien” sounds when the orchestra is removed from the Concert Palace, where dry wall surfaces had spoiled the sound for years. The trembling excitement of a first encounter was released that evening. We could confirm that the hall functioned as intended and that the acoustics were magnificent. Everyone understood that they were participating in a unique event. Grieghallen’s acousticians had hit the mark where many concert hall builders had failed.

Eleven days later came the official inauguration, in the presence of the King, almost exactly ten years after the laying of the foundation stone. On this occasion, Overtura Monumentale was heard for the first time—Harald Sæverud’s richly sonorous dedication of the hall, a commissioned work for “Harmonien.”

David Lie Eide allowed himself a rueful sigh, paraphrasing the words of merchant Herwitz: “Well, now it’s done—but goodness, you were heavy to drag along.” The day before, Lie Eide had been awarded the Knight’s Cross of the Order of St. Olav for his efforts in building the hall. On that occasion, Per Grieg said:

“You have put yourself on the line in an endeavour that has occupied this city for half a century and more. It is true that you have not stood alone, but no one can take from you the honour that it was your spirit that served as the guiding thread in the work and carried the matter forward. Grieghallen stands not only as a monument to our great composer; it is also a monument to Bergen’s civic spirit.”

The final cost amounted to 93 million kroner.