in briefrelease
13.03

Cello Among Cows and a Love of Music

Katrine Philp: »A Classical Life«
© Carsten Snejbjerg
© Carsten Snejbjerg

A farm near Rødvig on the Stevns peninsula, home to both pigs and cows, also houses an elite music school for cellists, the Scandinavian Cello School. The school was founded by the British cellist and professor Jacob Shaw, who is also a farmer and lives here with his family. It is a place where the young people in residence are expected to take part in the work on the farm as in a collective, when they are not working on their musical projects.

According to Shaw, this is very much an innovation. In one of the many scenes featuring the thoughtful, idealistic and selfless mentor, he remarks that the classical music world places great emphasis on competition and perhaps on musical development, but only rarely concerns itself with something as essential as well-being.

It is fascinating to follow not only the teaching and competitions on Stevns and elsewhere, but also to listen to the young musicians’ accounts of playing, alongside the many uncommented sequences in which large amounts of music – especially from the classical cello repertoire – are performed. Among them is an outdoor scene where the musicians have attracted a group of cows, who appear to be listening when they are not mooing.

This is a film about self-realisation through discipline, but also about discipline through self-realisation. The film continually circles around the human effort to become better at something, and it does so in a way that consistently places the participants’ love of music at the centre. This also applies to Shaw himself, whose previous serious illness, briefly referred to, forms a kind of counterpoint to the lightness that otherwise characterises the film.

Katrine Philp’s documentary A Classical Life is therefore warmly recommended – not only to parents of musically inclined children, but to anyone interested in music. Classical music? No. Music.

CPH:DOX, 14, 17 and 21 March

© Ana Alexandrino

»Music to me is movement, trance, transformation. The rest I won't tell you.«

Marcela Lucatelli is a vocalist and composer. Born in Brazil and based in Denmark, she has gained international recognition for her boundary-pushing performances — sensuous, politically charged, and uncompromisingly original. Described by The Wire as a composer of »scores for the limits of bodies and voice,« Lucatelli challenges conventions with her fearless vocal experimentation and bold compositions. Her works have been performed by Danish National Symphony Orchestra, Danish National Vocal Ensemble, and Neue Vocalsolisten Stuttgart. She has appeared at major festivals and venues, including Theatro Municipal de São Paulo, DR Koncerthuset, Donaueschinger Musiktage, Darmstadt Ferienkurse, IRCAM, Copenhagen Opera Festival, Ultima Festival, Borealis Festival, Copenhagen Jazz Festival, Jazzfestival Saalfelden, Cafe Oto, A L’ARME!, DMA Jazz – Danish Music Awards, WOMEX, and many more. Lucatelli's work has earned her several prestigious awards, including the Carl Nielsen and Anne Marie Carl-Nielsen Talent Prize (2019), Pelle Prize (2021), and the Danish Music Awards' 2023 Vocal Jazz Release of the Year, which shows that vocal jazz has many faces – and does not necessarily belong only to the soft end of the spectrum.

© PR

»What is music to me? Here’s a quote from Nietzsche: ‘The people dancing all seemed crazy to the people who couldn’t hear the music.’«

Salim Washington is a saxophonist, multi-instrumentalist, composer, academic, and activist from Detroit who has been highly active on the American jazz scene since the 1970s, and also in South Africa, where he became a central figure. The spirit of John Coltrane hovers over his music, which carries both spiritual and social dimensions.

© Aske Jørgensen

»Music for us is the perfect language that we love to speak. A language where it is the individual's feelings and imagination that determine what is right and wrong. Everyone can speak the language. You don't have to be able to write or understand, but just listen. Some music requires that you listen carefully and maybe hear it several times. A bit like when you talk to someone from Norway or Sweden, you also have to listen a little extra.«

DØGNKIOSK is a Danish punk rock band with roots in Silkeborg. The band consists of bassist and singer Anders Ejner, who has been active on the Danish underground scene for several decades. Musically, DØGNKIOSK moves in a field between classic Danish punk and alternative rock. In the spring of 2026, the band will release their second album, Tæt på kanten.

© Bastian Zimmermann
© Bastian Zimmermann

It is difficult to comprehend that Andreas Engström is no longer with us. Just a couple of months ago, he wrote – as he had done so many times before – with an ambitious proposal: he wanted to review a box set of twenty releases by Dror Feiler. In the same message, he mentioned plans to come to Aarhus for the recently concluded Spor Festival.

in briefrelease
04.05

The Escape From a Hotel That May Not Exist

RÖM: »Whispering Dub«

Ladies and gentlemen, we’re deep underground – indeed, all the way to France. This EP is the latest conceptual release from French electronic producer Romain Martin, who works under the name RÖM in the borderland between ambient and techno. Whispering Dub unfolds across five tracks, drawing heavily on dub while telling a story about an escape from a fictional hotel. Escomel’s background in African percussion studies and his fondness for analog gear surface in the mysterious sonic textures and the stark contrast between arranged percussion and dubbed-out echoes, underscoring the concept’s tension between mysticism and reality.

»Oilbird« opens in dystopian ambient before sliding into the rhythmic »Eastern Temple«, which constantly shifts between filtered synths, frantic percussion, and sudden breakbeats. Things cohere more fully on the title track, which blends minimal techno into the mix and stands out by maintaining a steady pulse, while echo-laden drums cast an unsettling atmosphere within the dance framework. On the closing »Hotel Amnesia«, the narrator awakens again in a collage of the record’s electronic tendencies, questioning their own existence in the album’s only use of vocals.

Whispering Dub isn’t wildly groundbreaking or bizarre enough to push the senses into extreme reactions. But as a well-produced and effective piece of electronic music, it invites the listener into a compelling game of whispers.

English translation: Andreo Michaelo Mielczarek