Dacapo is supported by the Danish Arts Foundation

Siobhan Lamb The Red Shoes (2016)

1 The Opening � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � 6:38

2 The ‘No’ Song* � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � 3:58

3 The Church � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � 6:15

4 Choice, Temptation, Church and Dance � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � 9:09

5 Loss � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � 5:22

6 The Ball � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � 7:12

7 The Tired Jig � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � 5:12

8 Fear and Safety� � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � 3:12

9 Peace � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � 4:17

Total 51:17

World premiere recording

The Red ShoesSiobhan Lamb

Suoni EnSEmblESamuli Örnströmer, cello · marilyn mazur, percussion · Sindre Postholm, tap dancer

anneke hodnett, harp · Siobhan Lamb, flute · Gerard Presencer, trumpet

*Copenhagen international Children’s Choir

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The reD shoes – a fairy tale by Hans Christian Andersen

There was once a little girl, so fine and pretty, but in the summer she always had to go barefoot, for she was poor, and in the winter she had to wear large wooden clogs, and these made her little ankles turn bright red and look horrible�

In the middle of the country village lived old Mother Shoemaker, she sat sewing – as best she could – a pair of small shoes out of old red strips of cloth� They were rather clumsily made, but well-meant, and those the little girl was to have� The little girl’s name was Karen�

On precisely the day her mother was buried she was given the red shoes and wore them for the first time; they were not exactly right for mourning, but she didn’t have any other shoes and she walked bare-legged behind the poor straw coffin with them on�

At that moment a large old carriage drove past, and in it there sat a large old lady� She caught sight of the little girl and felt sorry for her and said to the vicar: ‘Listen, give that little girl to me, and I will treat her kindly!’

And Karen believed the red shoes had brought all this about, but the old lady said that they were horrible and had them burnt, but Karen herself was nicely dressed in clean clothes; she had to learn to read and sew, and people said that she was pretty, but the mirror said: ‘You’re much more than pretty, you are lovely!’

One day the queen was travelling through the country and with her she had her young daughter, who was a princess, and people flocked to the front of the palace and Karen was there too, and the young princess stood in fine, white clothes in a window and let the people gaze at her; she wore neither train nor crown, but had lovely red morocco shoes on; they were certainly much finer than those Mother Shoemaker had sewn for little Karen� Nothing in the world, though, could compare with red shoes!

Now Karen was old enough to be confirmed, she was given new clothes, and was also to have new shoes� The proper shoemaker in town measured her small feet – that was done in his own living room – and there large glass-fronted cabinets stood with elegant shoes and gleaming boots� It looked very fine, but the old lady had poor sight, so she got no pleasure out of that; among all the shoes there stood a pair of red ones, exactly like the ones the princess had worn – how beautiful

they were! The shoemaker also said that they had been sewn for the child of a count, but had not fitted her�

‘They’re of patent leather!’ the old lady said, ‘they’re all shiny!’ ‘Yes, they’re all shiny!’ Karen said; and they fitted her and were bought; but the old lady didn’t re-

alise they were red, for she would never have allowed Karen to go to her confirmation in red shoes, but that was what she now did�

Everyone looked at her feet, and as she walked up the aisle of the church to the chancel doorway it seemed to her that even the old pictures of the funerals, those portraits of vicars and their wives with stiff collars and long black robes, fixed their eyes on her red shoes, and these were all she thought of when the vicar placed his hand on her head and spoke of holy baptism, of the covenant with God and that she was now going to be a grown-up Christian person; and the organ played so solemnly, the beautiful children’s voices sang and the old cantor sang, but all Karen could think of was her red shoes�

By the afternoon, the old lady had got to know from everyone that the shoes had been red and she said that was bad and quite out of place and that Karen from now on, whenever she went to church, was always to wear black shoes, even though they were old�

The following Sunday there was holy communion, and Karen looked at the black shoes, she looked at the red ones – and then she looked at the red ones once more and put them on�

It was lovely sunny weather; Karen and the old lady took the path through the cornfield – it was quite dusty there�

At the church door there stood an old soldier with a crutch and a strange, long beard that was more red than white, for red it was; and he bent right down to the ground and asked the old lady if he might wipe her shoes for her� And Karen immediately stuck her little foot out too� ‘Just look, such lovely dancing shoes!’ the soldier said, ‘stick tight when you dance!’ and he tapped the soles with his hand�

And the old lady gave the soldier a small coin and then she and Karen went into the church� And everyone inside looked at Karen’s red shoes, and all the pictures looked down on them

and when Karen knelt at the altar and placed the golden chalice to her lips, all she could think of was the red shoes and it was as if they floated around in the chalice; and she forgot to sing her hymn, she forgot to say the Lord’s Prayer�

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Then everyone left the church and the old lady got into her carriage� Karen was lifting her foot to get in after her when the old soldier, who was standing close by, said: ‘Just look, what lovely dancing shoes!’ and Karen couldn’t help herself, she had to do a few dance steps, and once she started her legs went on dancing, it was as if the shoes had taken control of them; she danced around the corner of the church, she couldn’t help herself, the coachman had to run after her and catch hold of her, and he lifted her into the coach, but her feet went on dancing, so she came to kick the good old lady hard on the shins� Finally they got the shoes off and her legs quietened down�

Back home, the shoes were put away in a cupboard, but Karen couldn’t stop looking at them� Now the old lady lay ill, they said she couldn’t live long! She had to be taken care of all the

time and Karen was the most obvious person to do so; but down in the town there was a large ball to which Karen was invited – she looked at the old lady, who hadn’t long to live anyway, she looked at the red shoes, and she couldn’t see anything sinful in it – she put on the red shoes, that couldn’t do any harm – but then she went off to the ball and started to dance�

But when she wanted to dance to the right, the shoes danced to the left, and when she wanted to dance up the floor, the shoes danced down the floor, down the staircase, through the street and out of the town gate� She danced and she couldn’t stop dancing, right out into the dark forest�

Then something shone up among the trees and she thought it was the moon, for it was a face, but it was the old soldier with the red beard, he sat there nodding and he said: ‘Just look, what lovely dancing shoes!’

Then she was frightened and wanted to throw away the red shoes, but they stayed put, and she ripped off her stockings but the shoes had become glued to her feet, and she danced and couldn’t stop dancing over the fields and meadows, in rain and in sunshine, both night and day, though it was most horrible at night�

She danced into the open graveyard, but the dead there didn’t dance, they’ve got something better to do than to dance; she wanted to sit down on the poor man’s grave where the bitter common tansy grew, but she couldn’t calm down or rest and when she danced towards the open church door she caught sight of an angel in long white robes, with wings stretching from his shoulders right down to the ground, his face was serious and grave, and in his hand he held a sword that was so broad and shiny:

‘Dance you shall!’ he said, ‘dance in your red shoes until you turn pale and cold! until your skin shrivels up like a skeleton’s! dance you shall from door to door and where proud, vain children live, you shall knock on their door, so that they hear you and fear you! Dance you shall, dance –!’

‘Mercy!’ Karen cried out� But she didn’t hear what the angel replied, for the shoes carried her through the gate, out into the field, along highways and byways – and all the time she had to dance�

One early morning she danced past a door she knew well; inside there was hymn-singing, a coffin was borne out that was adorned with flowers; then she realised that the old lady was dead and now she felt that she had been abandoned by everybody and cursed by God’s angel�

She danced and couldn’t stop dancing, danced into the dark night� The shoes carried her along through thorns and stubble, she was scratched till she bled; she danced over the heath to a small, lonely house� Here she knew that the executioner lived and she tapped on the window with her finger and said:

‘Come out! – come out! – I can’t come in because I’m dancing!’ And the executioner said: ‘Don’t you know who I am? I chop off bad people’s heads, and I can

feel my axe quivering!’ ‘Don’t chop off my head!’ Karen said, ‘for then I can’t repent my sins! But chop off my feet

with the red shoes!’ And then she confessed all her sins, and the executioner chopped off her feet with the red

shoes, but the shoes danced with the small feet across the field into the deep forest� And he carved wooden feet for her and crutches, taught her a hymn, the one sinners always

sing, and she kissed the hand that had swung the axe and went off over the heath� ‘Now I’ve suffered enough for the red shoes!’ she said, ‘now I will go to church so they can

see me!’ and she walked briskly towards the church door, but when she got there the red shoes danced in front of her and she was frightened and turned away�

She was miserable for a whole week and wept many heavy tears, but when Sunday came, she said ‘Right! now I have suffered and fought enough! I’m sure that I am just as good as many of those sitting holding their heads up high in the church!’ and she set off in high spirits; but she hadn’t got further than the church gate when she saw the red shoes dancing in front of her and she was frightened and turned away and repented her sins with all her heart�

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And she went to the vicarage and asked if she could work there� She would be diligent and do all she could, she expected no money, only wished for a roof above her head and to be with good people� And the vicar’s wife felt sorry for her and took her in� And she was both diligent and thoughtful� She sat quietly listening when the vicar read aloud from the Bible in the evening� All the young ones were very fond of her, but when they talked about frills and finery and being lovely like a queen, she shook her head�

The following Sunday everyone went to church and they asked her if she would come along with them, but she looked so sad, with tears in her eyes, on her crutches, and so the others went off to hear God’s word, but she sat on her own in her tiny room – it was so small that there was only room for a bed and a chair, and here she sat down with her hymn book; and as she was devoutly reading in it, the wind bore the sound of the organ from the church across to her, and she lifted her tear-stained face and said: ‘Oh, God help me!’

Then the sun shone so bright, and right in front of her stood the angel of God in the white robes, the one she had seen in the church door that night, but he no longer held the sharp sword, but a lovely green branch that was full of roses, and he touched the ceiling with it and it arched up so high and where he had touched it there shone a golden star, and he touched the walls and they grew larger, and she saw the organ playing, she saw the old pictures with vicars and their wives; the congregation sat in decorated pews and sang from their hymn books� – For the church itself had come home to the poor girl in the tiny, narrow room, or else she had come there instead; she was sitting in a pew among the vicar’s other folk and when they had finished their hymn and looked up, they nodded and said: ‘It was right for you to come, Karen!’

‘It was mercy!’ she replied�And the organ rang out and the children’s voices in the choir sang so sweetly and beautifully!

The bright sunshine streamed in through the window down onto the pew where Karen sat; her heart was so filled with sunshine, with peace and joy that it broke; her soul flew on the sunlight to God – and there was nobody there who asked her about the red shoes�

A fairy tale by Hans Christian Andersen (1845). Translated into English by John Irons in 2014 for the Hans Christian Andersen Centre at the University of Southern Denmark

Siobhan Lamb on The Red ShoesRed is a colour with many meanings� It is the colour of blood, the colour of danger, the colour of temptation, passion and love� Hans Christian Andersen’s The Red Shoes, at first glance seems like a cautionary tale about vanity, and maybe it is� But, in my opinion, the story examines the idea of the choices we make, both mundane and extraordinary choices�

In Andersen's disturbing story, the little orphan girl Karen is punished for her vanity in coveting red shoes and daring to wear them to church� But is she actually being punished for choosing to be different? There can be a lot of pressure on people to conform and be the same which does not suggest freedom of thought or creativity� However, in this story, we also see the dangers of temptation, and we begin to feel that what started out as a free choice to wear red shoes becomes something more of a compulsion� It seems that there is a loss of freedom to say “no” to the red shoes after a while� This leads us to think again about what choice is and how to create a balance within those choices�

H�C� Andersen shows us in the story that it can be fatal if you do not find this balance� In the fairy tale, Karen is condemned to dance in her shoes until her skin clings to her bones as if she were a skeleton� It seems certain she would have danced herself to death but for the fact that her wild, abandoned steps lead her to the town executioner, who chops off her feet� I see this brutal part of the story as a metaphor for removing parts of your personality that is not fitting in with the group ��� However, I am not sure whether or not that is a good thing!

In our interpretation, we replaced Karen with the boy Carl because we wanted to focus more on the metaphor for being different, avoiding getting into a discussion about what girls should wear�

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Siobhan Lamb’s love of music making spans her life� Lamb has always been enamoured by the expansive emotions, colours and textures within music and her fascination with stories and atmospheres one can create with sound� Initially a classical flautist studying at the Royal Academy of Music in London, Siobhan went on to develop her ideas as a composer and now enjoys the challenges of writing for a wide variety of ensembles� Her music always has a strong sense of narrative at its core� In 2006 Lamb was commissioned to write Meditations based on the poetry of Love, Loss, Hope, Joy, and Peace� The work was scored for; string quartet, medieval chant vocalists, harpist, percussionist and children’s choir� The Guardian newspaper described Meditations as “unmissable”, “tantalizing” and “expansively beautiful”� This was the first incarna-tion of Lamb's Suoni Ensemble� Other narrative based pieces include; The Nightingale and the Rose –commissioned by West Deutsche Rundfunk and later recorded by the Danish Radio Big Band and the Danish National Vocal Ensemble� The Seven Ages of Man – a collaboration with the Hochschule für Musik Hanns Eisler Berlin based on the speech by William Shakespeare, and Through the Mirror, Tales from Childhood performed and recorded by the Suoni Ensemble which retells favourite fables of Aesop�

The performers’Suoni’ is Italian for ’sound’, and each member of the Suoni Ensemble is hand-picked for their unique sound quality and their desire to tell stories through music making� The ensemble gathers in different ensemble combinations on a project by project basis and consists of musicians from several musical genres (including classical and improvising artists)� The Suoni Ensemble come to-gether to tell stories to new audiences through music� In 2015 Siobhan Lamb formed the Copen­hagen international Children’s Choir, created for all communities living in Copenhagen�  

De røDe sko – et eventyr af H.C. Andersen

Der var en lille pige, så fin og så nydelig, men om sommeren måtte hun altid gå med bare fødder, for hun var fattig, og om vinteren med store træsko, så at den lille vrist blev ganske rød og det så grueligt� 

Midt i bondebyen boede den gamle Mor Skomagers; hun sad og syede, så godt hun kunne det, af røde, gamle klædestrimler et par små sko, ganske kluntede, men godt mente var de, og dem skulle den lille pige have� Den lille pige hed Karen� 

Just den dag hendes moder blev begravet, fik hun de røde sko og havde dem første gang på; det var jo rigtignok ikke noget at sørge med, men hun havde nu ingen andre og så gik hun med bare ben i dem, bagefter den fattige stråkiste� 

Da kom der i det samme en stor, gammel vogn, og i den sad der en stor, gammel frue; hun så på den lille pige og havde ondt af hende og så sagde hun til præsten: ”Hør, giv mig den lille pige, så skal jeg være god imod hende!” 

Og Karen troede, det var alt sammen for de røde sko, men den gamle frue sagde, at de var grue-lige, og de blev brændt, men Karen selv blev klædt på rent og net; hun måtte lære at læse og sy, og folk sagde, at hun var nydelig, men spejlet sagde: ”Du er meget mere end nydelig, du er dejlig!” 

Da rejste dronningen engang igennem landet, og hun havde med sig sin lille datter, der var en prinsesse, og folk strømmede til uden for slottet, og der var da Karen også, og den lille prinsesse stod i fine, hvide klæder i et vindue og lod sig se på; hun havde hverken slæb eller guldkrone, men dejlige røde safians-sko; de var rigtignok anderledes nette end de, Mor Skomagers havde syet til lille Karen� Intet i verden kunne dog lignes ved røde sko! 

Nu var Karen så gammel, at hun skulle konfirmeres; nye klæder fik hun, og nye sko skulle hun også have� Den rige skomager inde i byen tog mål af hendes lille fod; det var hjemme i hans egen stue, og der stod store glasskabe med yndige sko og blanke støvler� Det så nydeligt ud, men den gamle frue så ikke godt, og så havde hun ingen fornøjelse deraf; midt imellem skoene stod et par røde, ganske som dem prinsessen havde båret; hvor de var smukke! Skomageren sagde også, at de var syede til et grevebarn, men de havde ikke passet� 

”Det er nok blank-læder!” sagde den gamle frue, ”de skinner!” 

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”Ja de skinner!” sagde Karen; og de passede og de blev købt; men den gamle frue vidste ikke af, at de var røde, thi hun havde aldrig tilladt Karen at gå til konfirmation i røde sko, men det gjorde hun nu� 

Alle mennesker så på hendes fødder, og da hun gik op ad kirkegulvet til kordøren, syntes hun, at selv de gamle billeder på begravelserne, disse portrætter af præster og præstekoner med stive kraver og lange sorte klæder, hæftede øjnene på hendes røde sko, og kun på disse tænkte hun, da præsten lagde sin hånd på hendes hoved og talte om den hellige dåb, om pagten med Gud, og at hun nu skulle være et stort kristent menneske; og orglet spillede så højtideligt, de smukke børnestemmer sang og den gamle kantor sang, men Karen tænkte kun på de røde sko� 

Om eftermiddagen vidste da den gamle frue af alle mennesker, at skoene havde været røde, og hun sagde, at det var stygt, at det passede sig ikke, og at Karen herefter, når hun gik i kirke, skulle altid gå med sorte sko, selv om de var gamle� 

Næste søndag var der altergang, og Karen så på de sorte sko, hun så på de røde – og så så hun på de røde igen og tog de røde på� 

Det var dejligt solskinsvejr; Karen og den gamle frue gik ad stien gennem kornet; dér støvede det lidt� 

Ved kirkedøren stod en gammel soldat med en krykkestok og med et underligt langt skæg, det var mere rødt end hvidt, for det var rødt; og han bøjede sig lige ned til jorden og spurgte den gamle frue, om han måtte tørre hendes sko af� Og Karen strakte også sin lille fod ud� ”Se hvilke dejlige dansesko!” sagde soldaten, ”sid fast, når I danser!” og så slog han med hånden på sålerne� 

Og den gamle frue gav soldaten en lille skilling, og så gik hun med Karen ind i kirken� Og alle mennesker derinde så på Karens røde sko, og alle billederne så på dem og da Karen

knælede for altret og satte guldkalken for sin mund, tænkte hun kun på de røde sko, og det var, som om de svømmede om i kalken for hende; og hun glemte at synge sin salme, hun glemte at læse sit ”Fadervor�” 

Nu gik alle folk fra kirke, og den gamle frue steg ind i sin vogn� Karen løftede foden for at stige bagefter, da sagde den gamle soldat, som stod tæt ved: ”Se hvilke dejlige dansesko!” og Karen kunne ikke lade være, hun måtte gøre nogle dansetrin, og da hun begyndte blev benene ved at danse, det var, ligesom om skoene havde fået magt over dem; hun dansede omkring kirkehjørnet, hun kunne ikke lade være, kusken måtte løbe bag efter og tage fat på hende, og

han løftede hende ind i vognen, men fødderne blev ved at danse, så hun sparkede så grueligt den gode, gamle frue� Endelig fik de skoene af, og benene kom i ro� 

Hjemme blev skoene sat op i et skab, men Karen kunne ikke lade være at se på dem� Nu lå den gamle frue syg, de sagde, at hun kunne ikke leve; plejes og passes skulle hun og

ingen var nærmere til det end Karen; men henne i byen var der et stort bal, Karen var inviteret; – hun så på den gamle frue, der jo dog ikke kunne leve, hun så på de røde sko, og det syntes hun der ingen synd var i; – hun tog de røde sko på, det kunne hun jo også nok; men så gik hun på bal, og så begyndte hun at danse� 

Men da hun ville til højre, så dansede skoene til venstre, og da hun ville op ad gulvet, så dan-sede skoene ned ad gulvet, ned ad trappen, gennem gaden og ud af byens port� Danse gjorde hun og danse måtte hun, lige ud i den mørke skov� 

Da skinnede det oppe mellem træerne, og hun troede, at det var månen, for det var et ansigt, men det var den gamle soldat med det røde skæg; han sad og nikkede og sagde: ”Se hvilke dejlige dansesko!” 

Da blev hun forfærdet og ville kaste de røde sko, men de hang fast, og hun flængede sine strømper af, men skoene var vokset fast til hendes fødder, og danse gjorde hun, og danse måtte hun over mark og eng, i regn og i solskin, ved nat og ved dag, men om natten var det grueligst� 

Hun dansede ind på den åbne kirkegård, men de døde dér dansede ikke, de havde noget me-get bedre at bestille end at danse; hun ville sætte sig på den fattiges grav, hvor den bitre regnfang groede, men for hende var ikke ro eller hvile, og da hun dansede hen imod den åbne kirkedør, så hun dér en engel i lange hvide klæder, med vinger, som nåede ham fra skuldrene ned til jorden, hans ansigt var strengt og alvorligt, og i hånden holdt han et sværd, så bredt og skinnende: 

”Danse skal du!” sagde han, ”danse på dine røde sko, til du bliver bleg og kold! til din hud skrumper sammen som en benrads! danse skal du fra dør til dør, og hvor der bor stolte, forfæn-gelige børn, skal du banke på, så at de hører dig og frygter dig! Danse skal du, danse!” 

”Nåde!” råbte Karen� Men hun hørte ikke, hvad englen svarede, thi skoene bar hende gennem lågen, ud på marken, over vej og over sti, og altid måtte hun danse� 

En morgenstund dansede hun forbi en dør, hun kendte godt; indenfor lød salmesang; de bar en kiste ud, som var pyntet med blomster; da vidste hun, at den gamle frue var død, og hun syntes, at nu var hun forladt af alle og forbandet af Guds engel� 

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Danse gjorde hun, og danse måtte hun, danse i den mørke nat� Skoene bar hende af sted over tjørne og stubbe, og hun rev sig til blods; hun dansede hen over heden til et lille, ensomt hus� Her vidste hun, at skarpretteren boede, og hun bankede med fingeren på ruden og sagde: 

”Kom ud! – kom ud! – Jeg kan ikke komme ind, for jeg danser!” Og skarpretteren sagde: ”Du ved nok ikke, hvem jeg er? Jeg hugger hovedet af de onde men-

nesker, og jeg kan mærke, at min økse dirrer!” ”Hug ikke hovedet af mig!” sagde Karen, ”for så kan jeg ikke angre min synd! men hug mine

fødder af med de røde sko!” Og så skriftede hun hele sin synd, og skarpretteren huggede af hende fødderne med de røde

sko; men skoene dansede med de små fødder hen over marken ind i den dybe skov� Og han snittede hende træben og krykker, lærte hende en salme, den synderne altid synger,

og hun kyssede den hånd, som havde ført øksen, og gik hen over heden� ”Nu har jeg lidt nok for de røde sko!” sagde hun, ”nu vil jeg gå i kirke, at de kan se mig!” og hun

gik nok så rask mod kirkedøren, men da hun kom der, dansede de røde sko foran hende, og hun blev forfærdet og vendte om� 

Hele ugen igennem var hun bedrøvet og græd mange, tunge tårer, men da det blev søndag, sagde hun: ”Se så! nu har jeg lidt og stridt nok! jeg skulle tro, at jeg er lige så god som mange af dem, der sidder og knejser derinde i kirken!” og så gik hun nok så modig; men hun kom ikke længere end til lågen, da så hun de røde sko danse foran sig, og hun forfærdedes og vendte om og angrede ret i hjertet sin synd� 

Og hun gik hen til præstegården og bad, om hun måtte komme i tjeneste der, flittig ville hun være, og gøre alt, hvad hun kunne, på lønnen så hun ikke, kun at hun måtte få tag over hovedet og være hos gode mennesker� Og præstekonen havde ondt af hende og gav hende tjeneste� Og hun var flittig og tankefuld� Stille sad hun og hørte til, når om aftenen præsten læste højt af Bibelen� Alle de små holdt meget af hende; men når de talte om pynt og stads og at være dejlig som en dronning, rystede hun med hovedet� 

Næste søndag gik de alle til kirke, og de spurgte hende, om hun ville med, men hun så bedrøvet, med tårer i øjnene, på sine krykker, og så gik de andre hen at høre Guds ord, men hun gik alene ind i sit lille kammer; det var ikke større, end at der kunne stå en seng og en stol, og her satte hun sig med sin salmebog; og alt som hun med fromt sind læste i den, bar vinden

orgeltonerne fra kirken over til hende, og hun løftede med tårer sit ansigt og sagde: ”O, Gud hjælpe mig!” 

Da skinnede solen så klart, og lige foran hende stod den Guds engel i de hvide klæder, ham hun hin nat havde set i kirkedøren, men han holdt ikke længere det skarpe sværd, men en dejlig grøn gren, der var fuld af roser, og han rørte med den ved loftet, og det hævede sig så højt, og hvor han havde rørt, skinnede der en guldstjerne, og han rørte ved væggene, og de udvidede sig, og hun så orglet, som spillede, hun så de gamle billeder med præster og præstekoner; menigheden sad i de pyntede stole og sang af salmebogen� For kirken var selv kommet hjem til den stakkels pige i det lille, snævre kammer, eller også var hun kommet derhen; hun sad i stolen hos de andre præstens folk, og da de havde endt salmen og så op, nikkede de og sagde: ”Det var ret, du kom, Karen!” 

”Det var nåde!” sagde hun� Og orglet klang, og børnestemmerne i koret lød så blødt og dejligt� Det klare solskin strøm-

mede så varmt gennem vinduet ind i kirkestolen, hvor Karen sad; hendes hjerte blev så fuldt af solskin, af fred og glæde, at det brast; hendes sjæl fløj på solskin til Gud, og der var der ingen, som spurgte om de røde sko�

Et eventyr af H.C. Andersen. 'De røde sko' udkom som en del af 'Nye Eventyr. Første Bind. Tredie Samling' (1845).

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Siobhan Lamb om De røde skoRød er en farve med mange betydninger� Det er blodets farve, farens farve og farven for fristelse, passion og kærlighed� H�C� Andersens De røde sko minder ved første øjekast om en formanende fortælling om forfængelighed, og måske er den det� Men efter min mening undersøger historien også idéen om de valg, vi foretager, både i hverdagen og under særlige omstændigheder�

I H�C� Andersens dybt ubehagelige fortælling straffes den lille forældreløse pige Karen for sin forfængelighed i begæret efter de røde sko, som hun er dristig nok til at bære i kirken� Men bliver hun straffet for at vælge at være anderledes? Der kan hvile et stort pres på mennesker for at skulle tilpasse sig og være ens� Et krav, der ligger fjernt fra idéen om tankefrihed eller kreativi-tet� I denne historie ser vi også farerne ved fristelsen, og vi begynder at føle, at det, der startede som et frit valg, valget om at tage de røde sko på, begynder at ligne en tvangshandling� Som om, at friheden til at sige "nej" til de røde sko tabes undervejs� En udviskning af det frie valg, der igen får os til at overveje, hvad et valg egentlig er, og hvordan man balancerer sine valg�

H�C� Andersen viser os i eventyret, at det kan være skæbnesvangert, hvis man ikke finder denne balance� I eventyret er Karen dømt til at danse i de røde sko, indtil hendes hud klæber til hendes knogler, som var hun et skelet� Og var det ikke for skarpretteren, der hugger hendes fødder og sko af, ville hun sikkert have danset sig selv til døde� Jeg ser denne grusomme del af fortællingen som et billede på, at vi ofte er nødt til at tilpasse vores personlighed til, hvad andre gør ��� Måske er det en god ting, jeg ved det ikke!

I vores fortolkning erstattede vi Karen med drengen Carl, fordi vi ønskede at fokusere mere på billedet om at være anderledes og undgå at komme ind i en diskussion om, hvad piger skal iføre sig�

Siobhan Lambs kærlighed til musik strækker sig over hele hendes liv� Hun har altid været forelsket i den klassiske musiks følelser, farver og teksturer� Hendes fascination af de historier og atmosfærer musik kan skabe, førte hende først ind på Royal Academy of Music i London som fløjtenist� Som komponist skriver Siobhan Lamb for alle typer ensemble� Kernen i hendes musik er en stærk fortælleglæde� I 2006 blev hun bestilt til at skrive værket Meditations baseret på poesi om kærlighed, tab, håb, glæde og fred� Avisen The Guardian beskrev Meditations – der er skrevet for strygekvartet, middelaldersangere, harpenist, perkussionist og børnekor – som et forjættende værk, man ikke må gå glip af at opleve� Det var gennem Meditations, at Suoni Ensemblet manifesterede sig for første gang�

Andre fortællingsbaserede værker omfatter The Nightingale and The Rose bestilt af West Deutsche Rundfunk og senere indspillet af DR Big Band og DR VokalEnsemblet� Også værket The Seven Ages of Man – et samarbejde med Hochschule für Musik Hanns Eisler Berlin baseret på William Shakespeare – og Through the Mirror, Tales from Childhood, der blev opført og indspillet af Suoni Ensemble, og som genfortæller de mest elskede af Æsops fabler, den legen-dariske figur, der i græsk litteratur står som prosa-fabeldigteren par excellence�

De medvirkende’Suoni’ betyder ’lyd’ på italiensk, og hvert medlem af Suoni Ensemblet er håndplukket for deres unikke musikalske evner og ønske om at fortælle historier gennem musikken� Ensemblet opstår i forskellige konstellationer fra projekt til projekt og består af musikere fra flere genrer (både klas-siske og improviserende), der mødes for at dele musikalske historier med et nyt publikum� Suoni Ensemblet blev dannet i København af Siobhan Lamb, der i 2015 også dannede Copenhagen international Children’s Choir� Et kor skabt for at lade københavnske børn fra forskellige fælles skaber synge sammen�

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dRecorded at Studio 3, DR Koncerthuset, Copenhagen on 11–17 April 2016Recording producer: Siobhan LambSound engineer: Lars C� Bruun, DR (Danish Broadcasting Corporation)Editing, mix and mastering: Lars C� Bruun

℗ & © 2019 Dacapo Records, Copenhagen

Proofreader: Svend RavnkildePhoto p� 18: © Kelley HudsonGraphic design: Denise Burt, elevator-design�dk

The Red Shoes was created with the support of DR Musikariet & KODA Culture

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Dacapo Records, Denmark’s national record label, was founded in 1989 with the purpose of releasing the best of Danish music past and present. The majority of our recordings are world premieres, and we are dedicated to producing music of the highest international standards.

Siobhan Lamb