THE GRAPES OF JOY | HÖGANÄS | SWEDEN

JILL JOHNSON | HÖGANÄS The grapes of joy

In Scania, Sweden’s southernmost state, we meet up with an artist, sommelier, and americana musician who doesn’t do anything half-assed. Jill Johnson spends a lot of time in her second home – Nashville, to write music. We sat down to talk about The Music City, wine, country music, and friends.

WORDS BY JONAS LARSSON | PHOTOS BY DAVID BACK

Black Barn just outside of Höganäs in late July. In the rafters hangs a plastic pig, turning ever so slowly in its decadence just like a disco ball. The stage, illuminated by a red star framed in circus lights, shines down on the sole musician strumming softly on her guitar. She is completely absorbed in her own world in this moment, utterly focused on her art. A true pleasure to witness, and a perk of the job to catch this moment so perfectly, so intimately. Soon enough, the whole barn will be packed full of fans, and the volume cranked up. But right now, she sits alone, acoustic guitar in hand, her strong but at the same time delicate voice carrying softly through the empty barn, and my mouth with its jaw dropping to the floor.

A MEETING IN MUSIC CITY Nashville, country music’s Mecca. A city which also goes by the moniker “Music City”, Nashville has been a focal point full of meaning for many musicians and their careers. Stars like Hank Williams, Johnny Cash, Patsy Cline, George Jones, Dolly Parton, Charley Pride, and Elvis all got their start here. At RCA’s renowned Studio B on Music Row, many of these artists and more recorded their albums. Elvis alone recorded some 260 songs here.

The heart of the country music industry has to be the Grand Ole Opry, which got its start in 1925 broadcasting a live radio show called “Barn Dance”. It was instantly popular and people flocked from all across the country to stand outside the broadcasting studio every Saturday night, just to catch a glimpse of the artists. Eventually the program was forced to move to Ryman Auditorium, where it was renamed the Grand Ole Opry. For over 30 years it resided at the Ryman, up until 1974 when it moved again to a new location, the Grand Ole Opry House, where the show still airs today.

In 2001 Jill Johnson arrived in Nashville for the first time, arguably the most important trip in her career. It was nearly 100 degrees outside, but that didn’t stop Jill from walking back and forth between the record companies. The fact that she walked was unimaginable for the Americans who were used to driving to their meetings in the comfort of their airconditioned cars.

“I walked to and from meetings with record labels. They were in small, quaint houses with porches on the second level, and they thought I was crazy for not driving a car. By the end of the night I was totally exhausted”, laughs Jill.

She dived into the scene in Nashville, quickly making friends. Eventually she ended up moving in with two other women who also wrote music. As Jill explains, that’s just how it works out there—life finds a way. People with similar interests are naturally drawn to each other, and it makes a lot of sense to live together and have fun with likeminded and creative people then to sit alone in a hotel room.

“Americans are very social, for real. If you can play three chords and have a guitar, then you are always welcome to jam. They are polite and professional in Nashville, and the lowest bar is extremely high. Even in the more touristy parts of town where you have the honky-tonk joints, where a lot of musicians are playing for tips, you will find an exceptional quality of music.”s

SOMMELIER, ARTIST AND MENTORSHIP It was also in Nashville where she met Liz Rose, a country music song writer from Texas, who moved to Nashville and started writing songs when she was 37 years old. It’s been going well for Liz, she has racked up work with not only Jill, but has also written for other artists like Taylor Swift. She has won several Grammy awards, and In 2007

THE STAGE, ILLUMINATED BY A RED STAR FRAMED IN CIRCUS LIGHTS, SHINES DOWN ON THE SOLE MUSICIAN STRUMMING SOFTLY ON HER GUITAR. SHE IS COMPLETELY ABSORBED IN HER OWN WORLD IN THIS MOMENT, UTTERLY FOCUSED ON HER ART. A TRUE PLEASURE TO WITNESS, AND A PERK OF THE JOB TO CATCH THIS MOMENT SO PERFECTLY, SO INTIMATELY.

THE BAND IS TIGHT, AND TOGETHER WITH JILL THEY DELIVER BOTH OLDER HITS AND NEW MATERIAL. A COUPLE OF GUYS IN PINK COWBOY HATS DANCE UP A SWEAT. THEY GET A BREAK WHEN JILL PLAYS, “DEAR HAVANNA” THE TITLE TRACK FROM HER LATEST ALBUM AND A POP-BALLAD SONG THAT SHARE ITS NAME WITH HER DAUGHTER.

she was acknowledged as SESAC Nashville’s “Songwriter of the Year”.

Jill and Liz hit it off, becoming best friends. She says that Liz was a mentor for her, and became vital to her own musical development. Together with two other songwriters, they wrote the tracks for the 2011 album, Flirting With Disaster.

“Every time I travel to Nashville now, I stay with her. We write together, talk about life, and take a glass of wine. She really means a lot to me.”

Music might take first place in her rankings of interests, but food and wine are right up there. This intimate interest in food has resulted in cookbooks, realized together with fellow musician Maria Molin Lundgren. During the working process of these books, an interest in wine began to grow, which has now flourished into a full-on venture alongside her musical career. In 2018 she released her first wine, Nashville Stories Red Blend. A full-bodied wine, blended from four different grape varieties native to California. The warm climate of Nashville might make for good country music, but it does not allow for grapes to flourish.

Then the pandemic hit, and life hit the brakes for most of us. Concerts were cancelled, so for Jill and many other performing artists, there was free time to kill. Jill took the opportunity to pursue a program in sommelier education to further her knowledge and feed her interest of wine.

“Early on, I got a lot of questions about realising a wine, but I have always chosen to be credible and felt that I didn’t know enough about wine to give the product the justice it deserved. I was also afraid of the judgement, so always declined the offers. But then during my education, I studied so hard, quizzing myself with flashcards all the time. It was a lot of fun though, I learned a lot, and once I was finished, I felt confident that I could release a wine in good faith.”

Now she has five wines: a red, white, rosé, sparkling, and a boxed red wine. Naturally, they are called “Nashville Stories.” Cause what better name than to describe it all, the love for Nashville, her journey, the stories, and wine–it all goes hand in hand, in vino veritas.

LIVING IN THE NASHVILLE BUBBLE Through the years, Jill has managed to build up a local network of songwriters in Nashville. To go back and work in this environment is a bit like landing in a bubble she explains. In this bubble she is free to disconnect from everything else, focusing solely on music and hanging out with good friends. She talks about East Nashville, her stomping grounds, an area of the city brimming with creativity and on the outskirts of Nashville there is Leapers Fork and Puckett’s Grocery & Restaurant (Now renamed to Fox and Locke) are a favorite (Check out Peter Eriksson’s musings on it in issue 11) a small general store, a bar, and a stage. There’s live music here five days of the week. Jill has been a performer on this small stage, but also there’s been other big names like Gillian Welch and Dave Rawlings who are known to take the stage from time to time.

We get into country music’s bad reputation in Sweden and the bias against Americans and this form of musical expression. As a Swede there can sometimes be strong culture shocks—the US is a huge country with marked regional differences, and many who have prejudices against this country have never even been there. She explains that to be a country artist in Sweden takes courage. Here, she really starts to fire up. Perhaps she has gotten to answer this question already:

JILL JOHNSON | HÖGANÄS | SWEDEN

“I have become a sort of unofficial ambassador for country music in Sweden, and lately this music is more and more accepted”, she says.

Who can argue with that? Country can take many shapes and forms, in Sweden there was a flirtatious mix of a genre known as “dansband”, but it is widely accepted as cringy and lowbrow music. Her own TV-show “Jill’s Veranda” has certainly played an ambassadorial role in opening many ears in Sweden to what country music can sound like. Just take a look at what’s happening on the festival circuits for example: STHLM Americana, River Valley Countryfestival, Eds Countryfest, and Northern Trails who organize concerts with americana artists. It is clear that country music has taken on a whole new understanding and appreciation, attaining a status that is comfortable in most homes and widely available on radio and TV.

ON THE STAGE Black Barn again. The mood is high, the place is packed full of people and high hopes.

This concert was actually supposed to take place two years ago, explains the arranger Johan, who runs the BBQ place Holy Smoke, but a pandemic put the brakes on that. The band is tight, and together with Jill they deliver both older hits and new material. A couple of guys in pink cowboy hats dance up a sweat. They get a break when Jill plays, “Dear Havanna” the title track from her latest album, and a pop-ballad song that share its name with her daughter.

Between numbers she talks to the crowd, it all feels so familiar and star struck at the same time. There she stands in cowboy boots, deep in the roots of country. Even If her newest album isn’t pure country per say, her soulful voice still carries those bittersweet tones from Tennessee.

JILLAN On the stage, she talks about her alter ego, “Jillan,” a woman who closes the bars and after parties together with her band. Jillan isn’t along tonight, sadly, as Jill has some things to fix and heads home after the gig. Those of us left in the barn, though, we bring Jillan to life ourselves. The bar is still open, so I grab a beer and say cheers to the disco pig hanging from the roof, which is still ever turning in tempo to the sounds of the night fading away.