As I walk into Háteigskirkja, or as I would casually refer to it, “the spiky church,” I’m greeted by an incredible sight — the sun is setting over the city, its rays radiating through the church’s large windows, drawing me in. “I think it’s the cosiest church,” says Erla Rut Káradóttir, catching me curiously looking around. Erla is Háteigskirkja’s organist and choir conductor, but her career almost took a completely opposite direction.
I started studying singing when I was five years old and sang in choirs throughout my childhood and adolescence. Later, I transitioned to piano, which I continued until I was about 19. My parents are not professional musicians, but there’s always been a lot of singing in my extended family. My mom has always sung in a choir and I followed her to rehearsals since I was three.
I grew up in that space — it’s always been a part of my life. Becoming an organist sort of just happened, really.
I feel like I didn’t choose this path, but music chose me. It was like a pull. I was already studying something else, pursuing a master’s degree in anthropology at Háskóli Íslands, but I felt that when I’m older, I wouldn’t be happy with myself if I had given up on music. So I decided to throw the other career away and pursue this one.
I wanted to learn choral conducting, so I started researching where I could study that. An organist friend I knew, who has since passed away, encouraged me to go all the way and study organ as well. Becoming an organist requires quite specific education. You can study at the School of Church Music of the National Church of Iceland. I did that and also studied at the Iceland Academy of the Arts, where I earned a BA degree in Church Music. The programme didn’t have many students — in my first year, I was the only one.
I was getting a lot of encouragement on all sides; my organ teacher was really encouraging me to continue this path and I also had teachers at HÍ encouraging me to continue as well. Then it came to the point where I was a full-time master student with two kids, also studying the organ and conducting and working on the side. I didn’t have time for everything, so I had to choose. It came to a point when I had to consider what I would think when I looked back. What often keeps many young people from pursuing a career in the arts is their fear of income insecurity and whether it’s sustainable in the long run, but I believe that if you’re doing what you love, things tend to work out.
Far beyond the keys
I’ve been working as an organist for nine years. I have a full-time position here at Háteigskirkja, but I do freelance work, one-off projects all over — like funerals and concerts. Most organists I know have other jobs, though not as organists, except for those who teach.
One thing I didn’t know when I started this job is how little of it involves playing the organ — just a small part of the job is solo performing. Usually, it’s about accompanying, singing and leading the congregation. Choral conducting is a big part of my job — my main focus, in fact. Beyond that, I also work with the elderly and children, and there’s also admin work.
If someone had asked me if I wish there was more organ playing years ago, I probably would have said yes. But my answer now is no — I love what I do, not only just playing the organ.
I also lead a choir called Kordía, which consists of trained singers. We rehearse weekly and perform concerts — a quartet from the group leads our regular masses, with more singers joining during Christmas and Easter.
I collaborate with other musicians mostly for concerts — if I’m asked to accompany choirs and singers, and sometimes a band. What kind of music organists play is mostly a personal preference. Some organists only do church music, while others participate in more contemporary stuff and others prefer renaissance stuff.
A versatile instrument
The organ is the queen of instruments. This one here is really small, it was supposed to be temporary, but like so many temporary things, it’s become quite permanent. Although historically, the organ is a church instrument and most of them are located inside churches, it’s useful for so many things. You can play anything on it — it’s like a whole orchestra. Unlike the piano that has only one sound, the organ has many colours and many sounds.
But organs can fail too. It hasn’t happened to me, but I was at a funeral a few years ago when my friend was playing, and all of a sudden, in the postlude, he stopped playing, but the choir sang on. I was like, “What is happening? Why isn’t he playing?” It turned out that the organ had indeed failed. So it does happen, but I’ve been lucky — my failures have mostly been maybe my iPad that I forgot to charge, or something like that. I get nervous when it’s coming to the end and it’s down to 8%. But most of us know our parts well enough to carry on without notation.
The organ requires yearly tuning. I can tune some of it, but Björgvin Tómasson — the only organ builder in Iceland — comes here to tune and clean it every year. Our organ is very sensitive to cold, so it tends to pitch higher in the wintertime. We try to keep the door closed, but it’s really a matter of keeping the space evenly heated.
Life in a church office
I work every weekend, every Christmas and every Easter. I only have two weekends off each semester, plus a summer break. Some days I’m here from nine in the morning till 10 in the evening, while other days I work from home. Sometimes I only work in my office, while on other days I’m all over town. It really depends on the day.
This schedule definitely shapes my family life. But I chose this and it has its advantages as well. Two of my children sing with choirs, both of them actually here in two different choirs, so I can incorporate them into my life. Otherwise, it would be quite sad to be here, always away from them during holidays.
I consider myself lucky to get to be a part of people’s big moments in life, and that includes both happy and sad moments. Death is an integral part of life, so I don’t distance myself from it, but I don’t maybe go emotionally all in.
Creativity and tradition
Háteigskirkja is turning 60 years old next year. It’s a really popular church for all kinds of services — weddings, baptism, funerals, concerts. The atmosphere here is very special — it’s a good place to sing and perform.
I love playing Christmas Eve. I love the hymns and everything about playing Christmas but there’s something special about playing Easter morning as well — it’s early in the morning, everyone is dressed up and everyone is so happy. It’s finally spring, at least usually, and the music is also special.
Some performances include me practising for hours, and others include just gathering the sheet music and walking in. It doesn’t matter if the occasion is small or big, I prepare so that I am prepared — I want to be able to give my best performance.
There’s definitely a space for creativity in my work but it also depends on the church and tradition in the church. The last job I had before this one was at a five-year old church at the time, and we were doing all sorts of stuff that wouldn’t be considered traditional. Háteigskirkja is definitely more traditional but I just find ways to be creative within that frame.
I see it as my job to encourage people to participate in hymn singing. I’m not performing for them, I’m performing with them, engaging with the congregation. That is incredibly rewarding both for me and everyone involved. There’s nothing like bringing people together in music.
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