Salla Seppä poses with a ”wind machine” on festival Saturday. Photo by Hilkka Rauhala.
Saturday 16.7.2016
The office starts to calm down.
13.00. With the day's special arrangements taken care of, there will be a moment of complete silence for the first time all week. It's absolutely wonderful to be able to concentrate on things in peace. The Slavonic Tractor rehearsals can be heard from the corridor. If I can't make it to the concert, at least I can visit the practice room and get my ears and soul full of Bulgarian female choral singing. I think I went to heaven, because I have always said that in my heaven there is a Bulgarian female choir singing.
A few bands had to cancel their performance for the day, but on the other hand the Naiskuoro Harput were able to extend theirs. And it looks like, as the Head Harpist said, I'm losing my harp virginity, as I get to hear and see them for the first time ever. Sadly, the joint concert of the Harps and the Old Boys' Choir was a bust (like so many other good concerts), but fortunately I was able to hear afterwards details of how some gentlemen had hidden behind the grand piano and contrived to twist the confrontation into a ventriloquism. I laughed out loud.
In the last few days, the Music School's lobby has also inspired spontaneous performances while the Massikka stage programme has been running outside. Tiredness and melancholy are in the air, but the heart is moved and overwhelmed by the desire and fire of thousands of players performing and playing. It can't help but make you feel good. Usko Välimäki, this year's new champion player, called early this week and asked for more performances, in addition to the five he had already had, he wanted at least five more. And on top of that, I've seen him on the bench, alone or with other players, playing anywhere and everywhere. Playing is as important as breathing. And listening is as important as playing.
There is no way to sum up all that has been seen and experienced during the week, words simply cannot suffice for these magical moments where life is as present as it can be. Friendship, a sense of belonging, surprise, abundance, pride in one's own tradition and culture, these are the adjectives that begin with Y to describe what comes to mind and why we do this here.
Fortunately, the handbook, a book of memories, is preserved. In the autumn, when you read the schedules of the different stages and the names of the bands, those situations and moments come to life, and suddenly it's summer again.
At 16.15 P.S. I got to the Women's Choir of Harps concert just as they stepped off the stage. They kindly promised me a private gig next year. On my way back to the Music High School, Saturday night's headliner Kilema was jamming next to the Massikka stage in a photo session. I was joined by a woman. In the evening, I jammed in the Arena with all the emotions I had accumulated during the week and Kilema's music. We are currently hunting for Finland's only marovanteletta from instrument maker Kimmo Sarja, as all the band's instruments have gone missing. There's plenty to tell about in the rocking chair again.
Players' team manager
Salla Seppä