Three Swedish hearts and one Chinese mystery

It’s a bit embarrassing. Because you are actually supposed to hate it. But I remember very clearly my first encounter. In my kitchen, late eighties, and there was this music filling the room from the radio. Making me stop. What is this?

It was Kenny G. Yeah. For those who don’t know, Kenny G is a saxophone player having sold 75 million albums worldwide of his slick and soothing tunes. And what grabbed me and didn’t leave me that day was his Songbird. I fell in love. There is no other way to put it.

Yeah yeah yeah, I know. I can still not nail down why his music did find it’s way right into my heart. But I think it has something to do with it being so vocal. I wanted to sing it. And I did, my god I did! Bought the record, turned the volume up, even brought the loudspeakers outside to fill my fields with this elevator friendly music. And the lyric writer in me wanted to put words to those melodies. I heard somewhere his mother was a singer, and that makes sense - if it’s true, he is singing on his saxophone.

I didn’t know at that time that he lives in Seattle, and I didn’t know that I would live there either, and this is not going to be a story about how we met, because we didn’t, this is a story about not only me being captured by his melodies, but most of China! And especially one of them: Going Home.

For years the tune, in all its seductive woodwind glory, has been a staple of Chinese society. Every day, “Going Home” is piped into shopping malls, schools, train stations and fitness centers as a signal to the public that it is time, indeed, to go home. One recent Saturday afternoon, as the smooth notes of “Going Home” cooed over the ordered chaos of Beijing’s famous Panjiayuan Antiques Market, hawkers packed up their Mao-era propaganda ashtrays, 1930s telephones and “antique” jade amulets while the last bargain hunters headed for the gates. To ensure no stragglers miss their cue, the melody plays on a loop — for the final hour and a half. According to a manager, Panjiayuan has used the tune since 2000. She did not know why. 

For a generation of Chinese youth, “Going Home” has featured prominently on the soundtrack of their lives. It’s played at wedding banquets, for kicking student out of the school library, on the street, at home, everywhere. On the popular Chinese video-sharing website Youku, “Going Home” accounts for four of the 10 most-played videos in the saxophone category, with 313,786 plays over the past three years.

So what does Kenny G himself have to say about this phenomenon? Touring China in the 1990s, he heard “Going Home” playing in Tiananmen Square, in Shanghai, on a golf course and “in a restroom in the middle of nowhere,” he says. “It made me feel great to know there was no language barrier to connecting with music. And I don’t ask questions because I like to leave some of the mystery,” he says.

As Kenny G had his grip on me as well in the early nineties, Trouble & Trouble were haunted too. He was often their soothing evening lullaby, in competition with Swedish saxophonist Jonas Knutsson. So, moving to Seattle it was kind of special knowing he was in the same town. And we did have one encounter, although not in person.

It was late fall 1996, and one of those unpleasant wet-snow-turning-into-slush weather conditions. One of those evenings you don’t want to drive in Seattle. I am used to all kinds of snowy roads from Sweden, but our 1982 Buick wasn’t the best companion in this game and Seattleites in general not either. But there was this concert with Kenny G at the Key Arena and we had tickets! Trouble & Trouble had been looking forward to this for months, and so had I. This music that had accompanied us since the boys were babies, was it for real, really? Is there a person in flesh and blood behind the soundtrack of our life?

Yes, it was. Our seats were way up, where we climbed after an adventurous ride from Portage Bay to lower Queen Anne. And the evening was long. The singer Toni Braxton opened with a full act, and it was bedtime even before she started. Then a gospel choir got delayed because of the weather. But, hey, we were at the Key Arena looking forward to Kenny G, we were in a good spot!

What I remember the most is how he handled the waiting for the choir situation. It didn’t even feel like a delay. He made the sold out 16000 seat arena comfortable improvising us forward, and the moment where he played Twinkle Twinkle Little Star to his 3-year old son at the front row was adorable.

I was a bit preoccupied by how I would make it back to Portage Bay in the slush though. Distracted. Tried hard to be present in this can’t-wait-to-be-there moment, but wasn’t 100% there.

What about Trouble & Trouble then? Well, at the age of 8 and 10 a dark November night they were tired already when we got there. And Toni Braxton was new to them and didn’t quite catch their attention, Sandman was visiting already before Kenny G entered the stage. But I was happy. I was sitting under the Key Arena ceiling, in between my two sons, who woke up at the familiar sound of the saxophone. And then fell asleep again, leaning towards me as I held them. Of course. As they should. In the arms of their good night lullaby. Before Going Home.

The brief green tulle dance

This shimmering shivering green transparency. Floating in your eyes and in your body. There is nothing like it.

It’s happening this minute. Summer is arriving on the 64th latitude. We call it pre-summer. When the winter-naked trees dress in light tulle and invite our hearts to dance and we don’t know how we can ever live without it.

I am thinking, how come nature does this? Year after year. How come it makes this effort? Gets through all this? What for? In three months the dress will bi worn out, falling apart, and the nine months of painful bold darkness will celebrate it’s victory. Ha, the dance is over, like it always will be!

I am lying on my couch with the balcony door open. The wind has fallen and the blackbird is singing in the sunny May evening. It’s been one more long and painful winter for me. Sometimes there is spring in my body. It happens. When the pain is less severe and I can look out in the world for a while. Take short walks. Say hello to my neighbors. Sing in my choir. Have a fika with a friend. Even sit at my desk working for an hour or two.

And I am thinking, yes, I am on my way! It’s time to start lifting the dumbbells and get my arms back! And I am extending my walks and I can sit through a full rehearsal and even sing in concert. I begin making plans. I take on a big assignment and I am toying the idea of seeing Seattle one more time. Maybe there is life for me after all! Maybe there will be dancing again!

And then winter is crashing right into my body. Cold flashes of unbearable pain immobilizing me, and I am thinking what’s the point? What’s the point of that short spring? How many times am I supposed to rise from this? Where will I get the energy to try for it one more time? What’s the point of a spring when there isn’t an everlasting summer?

Of this I am thinking, watching the birches, maples, aspen trees, balsam poplar, mountain ashes, bird-cherry trees and my fathers ash getting greener by the minute here at the end of the road. Of this I am thinking while listening to the blackbird, the wood pigeon, and do I hear the first cuckoo in the west where the sun will be setting at 9.51 tonight?

The nature makes its wonder every year. It performs its miracle. Although brief, painfully brief, it makes the dance in a transparent green tulle. Why shouldn’t I?

Being found by the spotlight

Some years ago I had this dream. Like a flash. I was standing in a large room, a space. At the center surrounded by people. In my arms big bouquets of flower. Everything was swirling, like TV cameras circling around me. Colors, colors everywhere, all light was on me, and I was thinking: was this where I was heading? Was this how it was meant? Was this how everything would fall into place and be okay?

I had won the Eurovision Song Contest. Not as a singer, but as a composer. Yeah, this is a pretty embarrassing dream, but I came to think about it last night.

My mother put me on stage at an early age, singing. I remember it as scary and uncomfortable, it wasn’t my choice. In my teens I taught myself how to play the guitar and I became a singer-songwriter girl. I brought my guitar everywhere. It became a part of me. Come to think of it, this might have been when my teddy bear stopped sleeping in my bed. My guitar became a new best friend, a body to hold next to mine, singing with me. I became Mia (short for Maria) with the guitar. It was my identity.

I was 14-15 years old when people commented on me in terms of “I hope it’s not going to happen too fast. Too fast can be a dangerous thing and ruin you”. They were referring to my break through as an artist.

I am shaking my head here. It seems so absurd. And so far away. Was that me? But it was. A tall skinny girl, scared and utterly insecure about herself and life. Safe and complete only when holding her guitar, letting her voice out, an audience listening. “I hope it is not going to happen to fast”.

Well, it didn’t happen. My teenage years passed and Mia with the guitar died away. I can’t put a finger on why really, but I think I eventually perceived myself too old for it. It wasn’t charming anymore. I wasn’t charming anymore. And I devoted my musical life to choral singing.

Now, this is where this story turns really embarrassing. Sad even. I am still waiting for that break through. Not as a singer or an artist. And not on a conscious level. But at the core of me there is always that feeling of…I don’t know how to express it, not even in Swedish. The desire and anticipation of a break through in any of my fields, that would take care of my nonexistent self-esteem, strengthen my self-confidence, give me an identity and fix my troubled finances. Show the world who I am and that I am here. Make me visible. Coming out.

I asked her, at the end of her life. She was suffering from dementia and was generally foggy but I still needed to ask her, my mother. Why she did those things. Put me at the front of the stage. Forced me to take piano lessons and voice coaching. Her answer was very clear: “Because you were supposed to become something big.” 

I was startled. I had no idea that was her agenda. But that explained a lot.

Through my life I have had very high expectations on myself. And although I sometimes accomplish tasks almost to perfection I always find reasons to doubt myself. A Seattle friend once said “Maria, I keep forgetting you are an overachiever who thinks you are an underachiever”.

I often feel like I am still fourteen. I feel like I never grew up. Like everyone around me did, but I am still there. Even the generation coming after me are grown ups. But I am fourteen. I am thinking now as I am writing, might it be when the break through people around me set me up for didn’t happen, something in me stopped? And I am still there.

So, what happened last night? There was this concert in Skelleftå, a town two hours north of Umeå. A choir of 1000 singers. The soul singer LaGaylia Frazier and guitarist and ballad singer Göran Fristorp. It’s been in my calendar all this winter for a very special reason. The choir was going to sing one of my songs. I knew the chances were slim that I could make it and be a part of it, but I wanted it badly. 

I have had some better days the last couple of weeks though, so maybe? But who could take me there? I asked around with no luck, but then it turned out my sister had an open spot on a Saturday evening and was happy to go with me!

Waking up yesterday morning I realized it wasn’t one of my better days. It was a really bad day. But my mind was set, it was just doing it. And we did.

I have had an emotional week. And I managed to get myself to the concert. Sitting among thousands (3000 in the audience) of people at the hockey arena listening to the most beautiful music and lyrics of different genres was overwhelming. Songs from the past and those being new to me plunged into my heart, I couldn’t hide and I fought my tears most of the evening.

But then there was this moment. Like a flash. 

My song had been sung by 1000 singers. Låta livet. Let Life. I tried so hard being present taking it all in, I felt kind of numb. And then, unexpectedly, the composer was asked to stand up. I managed to get up from my seat, on instruction waiving for the big spotlight searching the arena to find me. Circling. And there it was. Flash! Hit my eyes! Flash! Hit me! Flash! I was surrounded by that yellow warm light, crossing my hands on my chest as a thank you and throwing kisses at a thousand singers in joy and gratitude. It happened so quickly and went by so fast, I don’t remember, but I guess 4000 people applauded on me and my song while all light was on me, while I was lit up. Like a flash! Like in that dream.

In the car later heading back to Umeå with my sister, we turned on the radio. Listening to the Eurovision Song Contest on air.

Pot more/Top less

- Heads up, this is Sweden, prepare yourself for some topless views! 

I keep coming back to the idea my two cities Umeå and Seattle have a lot in common. And that the regions are to a large extent breathing similar air. On two subjects though we are on different planets.

It was 2001 and my friends Matt and Elizabeth and their daughters were here to spend Midsummer with us. The weather was gorgeous and we were heading for a day at the beach. That’s why the heads up. I have to admit we were all kind of disappointed when  it turned out the warning was unnecessary. Nothing topless in sight. Sweden was acting very proper and behaved. And I didn’t get to show off the most exotic of the Swedish features.

What had happened? Well, I hadn’t been on a public beach since the late eighties, and it turned out times had changed.

In the seventies we all burned our bras. We didn’t wear them under our clothes and we didn’t wear them at the beach. Indoor pools were the exception, I don’t think I ever saw naked breasts in the public indoor pool. I, for myself, didn’t buy a bra again until 1993, packing for my first stay in Seattle. I had the feeling bras were mandatory in the U.S.

In Sweden swimsuits are not allowed in public saunas, like at the gym or an indoor pool. For hygienic reasons. In U.S swim suits are required in saunas. I don't really know why. For hygienic reasons maybe.

So what happened in Sweden between the eighties and 2001? I am not sure. But it seems like women have grown more protective about their bodies. I don’t know what the situation is in the ladies locker room sauna, but I know it’s become quite common for girls and young women keeping their swimsuit on in the shower - which is not allowed either, for obvious hygienic reasons.

Therefore, the action two young women in Umeå took this spring came as a surprise to me.

The Umeå City public indoor pool is run by a company, Medley. After swimming topless in the pool, offered to borrow swim suites but denied, the young women wrote Medley and argued for women having the same rights as men to swim only in their bottoms. The actions were gender based and interesting in that perspective. Even more interesting is the result. It is now allowed for women to swim topless in the Medley pool in Umeå. The politicians in Umeå (who also are entitled to have a voice since it is a City public pool) however, have postponed their decision until fall, because of the complexity of the subject.

I am thinking my Seattle readers are raising eye brows and maybe shaking heads at this information. As I am, at the fact that 21 stores for selling recreational pot is about to open in Seattle this summer.

The use, sale and possession of cannabis (marijuana) in the U.S is illegal under federal law. However, on November 6, 2012, voters in Colorado and Washington approved to legalize non-medical use of cannabis - the first states in the nation to do so.

The interest in starting businesses in the weed business in Washington has been so big the state Liquor Control Board decided on a lottery for the 1,174 applicants who made it through the initial screening, 191 of them in Seattle. Out of those 191, 21 lucky ones won the lottery and State officials expect to start issuing store licenses by early July.

I often feel like there is an American in me. A part of me feels more at home in the U.S than in Sweden. The part who starts chatting with people on the street and smiles at strangers. The part with an uncontrolled number of ideas popping out of my head and the drive to make them happen - when my body is not stopping me. The part of me that takes up a lot of space and prefers to live unedited. But on the subject of marijuana I feel a 100% Swedish.

I know quite a lot of people in Seattle my age, who grew up and were young on the West coast. A number of them were at that time deeply affected by drugs and alcohol, either by their own use or people around them. I’ve been told stories where all the adults, parents - parents friends - teachers, were constantly stoned. There were simply no grown ups (by definition) around. And those being young in this environment don’t touch neither alcohol nor drugs today.

Seattle is considered a progressive city. And it truly is. But to me, 100% grown up Swede on this subject, I feel a city fogged by pot is moving backwards, not forward. And what makes me worried, for the less grown up Swedes than me, is that the example Washington and Colorado is setting have an impact even over here. There is more room for being pro recreational drugs in an environment con, when there are allowing examples to fall back on.

I doubt it though, that being allowed swimming topless in indoor public pools in Sweden will work it’s way over to Seattle, I don’t think it would even be considered progressive. 

But here are some truly progressive news from this week: Seattle will be the first city in the U.S. raising the minimum wages to 15$ an hour! Meanwhile Barack Obama was stopped by the Senate on Wednesday trying to raise the minimum in the U.S from 7,25$ to 10,10$, Seattle Mayor Ed Murray managed to come to a deal increasing the cities 9,19$ an hour to 15$! That’s impressive and truly progressive!