My old pedagogue Nadia Boulanger once said: “The geniouses were great musicians. Without knowing it. But posterity knows that they also touched the mysterious”. This is how I regard the non-material in our existence, says Kvandal on the occasion of his 70th Anniversary.

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By the beginning of the 50s there was still a scent of fairytales, of Asbjørnsen and Moe, of Halfdan Egedius and Arne Garborg in the hills of Bærum. The occasional battle cry from Henrik Sørensen could still be heard in the landscape. The train to Slependen station took the novice right back to the golden age in Norwegian music, literature and art. Up the hill, and at the gate to no. 21 in Gyssestadkollen, one suddenly stood at the threshold of the fairy castle Soria Moria.

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