Goosebumps In the Courtroom: When Music Turns Into a Power Play
A newly composed opera staged in a courtroom may sound like a banal trick. But as I step into the waiting hall of the Aarhus Courthouse for Niels Rønsholdt and Louise Beck’s Den Stærkes Ret – Den Svages Pligt (The Right of the Strong – The Duty of the Weak), I wonder for a moment if I’ve come to the wrong place. An oblong room, tables scattered about, a balcony above – and then a sheet of music in a glass display case that normally would hold old legal documents. The scenography is discreet, but the legal framework immediately sparks reflections on law, power, and justice.
Soon, nearly 20 singers appear on the balcony. The music is tonal, carried by resonance and repeated phrases that gradually shift like a canon. You sense borrowings from minimalism, but also a near-folklike simplicity that makes the choir both enchanting and unsettling. The plot – a daughter confronting her father’s ghost to claim his weapon – emerges only in fragments. It is the atmosphere that drives the work, and it changes radically when the singers leave the balcony and place themselves among the audience, while three dancers move through the hall.
A pivotal moment comes when the choir suddenly strikes tuning forks and places them on the tables, sending a vibrating »wuu-uu« through the room. Goosebumps arrive instantly. Moments later, the singers address us directly, holding intense eye contact. It feels both intimate and transgressive, like being spoken to in court with no chance to reply. I wanted to look away, but felt compelled to hold their gaze. Here, the title became physical: the duty of the weak to submit.
As the work fades out, all the singers turn against the father and side with the daughter. Books are torn from the shelves, pages ripped out, and as »Listen and learn« is sung, Orwell’s 1984 flickers in the back of my mind. It is both disturbing and uncannily timely in an era where obedience to authority and manipulation again shape public discourse.
Den Stærkes Ret is one of the most intense musical experiences I have had in years. It unites aesthetics, body, and social commentary in a way that makes you shudder. I am already waiting for acts two and three.
English translation: Andreo Michaelo Mielczarek
»Who ever said that music is ‘just’ music? To me, it is anything but that: an urge to understand and explain it all. A piece of jewelry I wear every single day. A joy that can, at times, run deep. An ever-changing imprint of millions of stitches in my heart. A longing to disappear.«
Henrik Marstal is a musician, author, and music researcher. He holds a PhD in musicology, is a senior lecturer at the Rhythmic Music Conservatory, and frequently appears in the media as an expert source on music. His areas of interest include contemporary music, such as electronic music. This winter, he will release both a new album with the pop group ibens and a book about Else Marie Pade, published by the British publishing house Bloomsbury.
»For me, music is at its best when it appeals to both the head and the heart. I love music that plays with language and understands how words create images, while also possessing its own unique sonic quality and mood. It’s an added bonus if the music energizes me during a run, makes me dance in the kitchen, or makes me laugh. Or cry. Music can be like a chocolate-coated marshmallow treat with a surprise inside.«
Lone Hørslev is an author of poetry, novels, and song lyrics, as well as the TV series Den gode stemning. Together with Mads Mouritz, she forms one half of the Mouritz/Hørslev Project, and she recently wrote lyrics for the musical theatre production STOLT in collaboration with Katrine Muff. The songs can be found on the album Jeg ønsker mig.