The Principal's speech at the Semester Opening

It's wonderful to stand here again as Principal to officially open a new academic year!

Of course, the activity is already well underway: last week, we welcomed new students, and the building filled with increasing sound. Now, most of the students, teachers, and colleagues are here.

You are a hand-picked group: the new bachelor students who just performed for us, the new master's students, those beginning their doctoral journey next week, and our latest and long-standing colleagues, who are exceptionally skilled.

Welcome to everyone here today!

I always feel humbled, proud, and inspired when we gather to celebrate music, knowledge, and the deep enthusiasm that characterises NMH here in Lindeman Hall. On many levels, this hall represents a safe and privileged space in an unsettled world.

Music and the Academy can and should be places where many delve deeply into art, personal projects, learning, and close communities. At the same time, we are part of a larger world that currently feels unsettled and – if I'm honest, as the election campaign winds down – rather noisy.

I keep asking myself: can music contribute to a world like this, where culture and cultural politics often seem to be sidelined?

One of the first things I did after the summer holiday was travel to Arendalsuka to represent the minority voice speaking about arts education, music, and diversity. In the midst of a cacophony of debates, I participated in a small conversation on art, war, and boycotts.

Who do we exclude, and who do we welcome? Who do we collaborate with when unfathomable atrocities occur in Gaza, war rages in Ukraine, and Donald Trump continues to dominate headlines?

I won't recount the entire discussion or every perspective shared. But what became even clearer to me during those 45 minutes was this: we, as artists, must embrace nuance, navigate dilemmas, cultivate freedom of expression, and – most importantly – hold onto the belief that what we do can help people endure, think, and build bridges, both now and in the future.

In practice, drawing these lines is not always easy. For example, we do not collaborate with Russian or Israeli institutions, but Russian and Ukrainian students are welcome to study side by side at NMH – and they do. We do not ban Russian repertoire, but we listen when students question what it means today for our orchestra to perform Russian works. After all, we do not punish dead composers.

The situation invites us to think historically and reflect on the significance of certain artistic expressions in our time. However, it does not invite blind censorship or the suppression of freedom of expression or artistic freedom.

Don't we, as musicians, possess a superpower – an understanding of nuance, fine-tuned interpretation, and the interplay of tension and complexity – in a world increasingly polarised and filled with reductive slogans?

I know this perspective isn't always easy to hold onto, especially when struggling alone in a practice room, battling nerves, or feeling overwhelmed by performance pressure. Or when you're new and convinced that everyone else at NMH is better than you. Or when global problems feel insurmountable, leaving a sense of powerlessness – something many young adults experience today.

We will do our best to tackle these issues together.

But if anyone asks you – whether you're just starting, about to graduate, or dedicating your career to music education – whether society should prioritise the arts in tough times, I hope you know, deep in your gut, that the answer is yes.

Precisely in challenging times, creativity, music-making, and togetherness are crucial.

We need music on many levels: as sound and for creating connections, often supported by words. In 1838, Henrik Wergeland wrote:

When former NMH student Torbjørn Dyrud set this poem, "Med en bouqvet", to music for choir, it came to life again. As many of today's musical contributions highlight, it reminds us of the deep connections between humanity, love, and nature.

And in August, perhaps we can still say with Wergeland: