in briefrelease
14.03.2025

Community in Collapse

Nausia: »Finding a Circle«
©Astrid Lemmike

The transcendent takes the front seat on Copenhagen-based Nausia’s latest album, Finding a Circle. Slow builds and intense demolitions form the band’s basic structure, and a web of saxophone harmonies floats through a tight and daring interplay. Not every band manages to preserve the intense feeling of a live concert on a recording. But on Finding a Circle, Nausia succeeds in hammering the gap between stage and studio down to an irrelevant trifle, through a phenomenal and remarkably great-sounding ensemble performance.

There is something about the physical conditions of the saxophone that makes it easy to sense the musician’s presence. The clatter of the keys and the intense breathing make it effortless to form an inner image of the human behind the brass. On the track »E.D Interlude«, the saxophones’ airy exhalations and mechanical flapping ensure that, as a listener, I behave with the same quiet reverence as I would at a concert. So when the next track, »Eco Death«, kicks the door in on the silence, it is hard not to feel almost physically exhilarated by the album’s intense contrasts between presence and destruction.

Titles such as »flowers grow through concrete too« and »Eco Death« cast the wordless album in a bleak light of climate collapse. Finding a sense of community in a chaotic world – whether at a concert, on an album, or elsewhere – is essential to life in a time of crisis. Finding a Circle is a fine example of exactly that.

in brieflive
24.05

The Electronic Altar

 Fascia, Soli City, Nagaver
© PR
© PR

The table is a practical prop at most electronic music concerts. It has almost become a symbol of how electronic music is denied the same expressive, physical gestural language as acoustic music. This rigid symbolism was thankfully broken when the concert network Up Node hosted a showcase evening at Alice, featuring three emerging experimental electronic artists from Norway, Sweden, and Denmark.

The MacBook stood enthroned like an altar as Swedish artist Fascia opened the evening, holding a blinking flashlight above her head – each flash triggering brutal bursts of noise. When she placed a webcam in her mouth and projected the table’s mysterious objects onto the screen behind her, the boundary between stage and audience dissolved through simple yet cunning technology.

Next to his MIDI keyboard, Danish artist Soli City had his trademark moving-head lamp. Like a robotic head, the lamp lit up and rotated in sync with epic crescendos and computerized voices. Soli City’s music is built around field recordings and classical instrumentation – strings and piano – forming a universe that exposes the tension between human and technology. The animated lamp and dramatic light show took centre stage, while composer Harald Bjørn stood like a hidden puppeteer, gently guiding the futuristic narrative forward.

The table in front of Norwegian artist Nagaver had been laid flat on the stage floor, forming a low wall. Behind it knelt Ilavenil Vasuky Jayapalan, who unleashed hard-hitting, dark rhythms from a DJ mixer, enveloping Alice in a transcendent haze. The concert evolved from driving trance into a kind of karaoke performance, with Jayapalan singing over dusty tracks—and unfortunately the music felt more like a run-through than a fully realized concert.

Behind the table lie untapped potentials for auditory innovation, but practical constraints often limit performative expression. The concerts by Fascia and Soli City succeeded in breaking the boundary between mere execution and true performance, reminding us that not all music needs to be presented with the same gestures – and that sometimes all it takes is a webcam and a laser lamp to make that clear.

in briefrelease
21.05

Emergent Music

Lauri Supponen: »Dwell«
© Tuomas Tenkanen
© Tuomas Tenkanen

As an abstract micro manifesto Lauri Supponen describes his interest in »music that inhabits a second space and lingers there«, an invitation for us to dwell in the moment and discover music in its quiet emergence. 

»Gaz aux étages«, the first composition on Supponen’s breathtaking album, seems to test this idea as it unfolds with whispered bow strokes devoid of pitch. It is as if the piece itself is an entity wondering if it will prove to be music as it tentatively investigates its own constituent components. A subtle opening to an album that answers this question with clarity in its eponymous second work »Dwell« (tracks 2–5), exploring a fascinating microtonal realm. In virtuoso performances of astonishing accuracy, guitarist Petri Kumela and vocalist Tuuli Lindeberg bring Supponen’s demanding four-movement duo to life. The guitar writing in Dwell recalls Norwegian composer Martin Rane Bauck’s Fretted with Golden Fire with its drone-like microtonal strumming – a connection substantiated by the album notes, which reveal both composers know each other and have collaborated with bass clarinetist Madison Greenstone. 

The dwelling-space Supponen offers in »Eau & gaz à tous les étages« and »Opus Nen«, return the listener to a more remote sonic space, reminiscent of the album’s opening albeit with tighter compositional sense. Performed with intensity by Madison Greenstone and baritone saxophonist Sikri Lehko, they consolidate the pervasive feeling that Dwell is a uniquely inspired collaboration.

© PR

»Every moment is nothing but the uttermost end of the past. Music makes this edge wide and beautiful.«

Sven Helbig is a German composer and producer known for combining orchestral and choral music with electronic elements and a strong poetic sensibility. A self-taught musician raised in Eisenhüttenstadt, he released his debut album Pocket Symphonies on Deutsche Grammophon to critical acclaim for its emotional depth and formal precision. Helbig has collaborated with ensembles such as the BBC Singers, Fauré Quartett, and Staatskapelle Dresden, as well as with artists like Rammstein and the Pet Shop Boys. He just released REQUIEM A on Deutsche Grammophon. It is a deeply personal and reflective composition, intertwining classical Latin liturgical texts with new ones written by Helbig himself. The work revolves around themes of loss, memory, and the possibility of renewal – with the »A« in the title symbolizing Anfang (beginning) and the belief in a new start after devastation.

© Kåre Viemose

»Recently, I discovered that when a couple of thousand people clap their thick gloves in minus 30 degrees, it sounds like the softest techno – a freezing space where the cold air turns into a wave of warmth, and we, in a moment of collective devotion, become one with the rhythm, one with the invisible bond that connects us in the warmth of silence. Music is not just sounds, but a vain attempt to capture the infinite, which has always been and always will be.«

Andreo Michaelo Mielczarek has been the editor-in-chief of Seismograf since 2021. He is also a music critic and cultural journalist at Kristeligt Dagblad and Århus Stiftstidende/Avisen Danmark and has over the years written to publications such as Kunsten.nu, Glissando (Poland), Neural (Italy), Raw Vision (UK), Nutida Musik (Sweden), Kunstkritikk (DK/Sweden), Iscene.dk, B.T., and Jazz Special. He is the author (together with Lars Muhl) of the book HVA' SAA! En guidet rutsjebanetur gennem Aarhus – før, nu og i fremtiden (2024) and has also contributed to the anthology on music criticism Man skal høre meget (ed. Thomas Michelsen and Claus Røllum-Larsen, 2024). He is a founder and partner in the Polish-Danish cultural organization Kultur(a), and wherever there is a piano, he will be there, eager to coax a melody from it.