in brieflive

Only at the End Did the Music Break Free

The Baroque Society: »Remembering«

The British composer Nick Martin, who is based in Copenhagen, attempts to give remembrance a sonic form in his brand-new work Remembering, written specifically for The Baroque Society. On Thursday evening at Grundtvig’s Church, he succeeded beautifully in parts of the fifteen-minute work for four singers and a small, intensely focused group of Baroque instruments.

Dense vocal textures lingered over harmonies that unfolded slowly, while allowing the soloists to emerge one by one. The static accompaniment provided a foundation for remembrance, over which the floating voices evoked the lost and departed. The harmonies gradually shifted in colour like clouds in the sky, constantly changing shape – seemingly at random, yet following what felt like a fixed, organic pattern. But the work became too long and passive. Only in its final minutes did the harmonies break apart, making room for welcome rhythmic variation and tantalising silences. Had this shift in form come earlier, Martin might have created a more compelling work. It nevertheless ended with a gem of an open, searching chord which not only demonstrated his gifts as a vocal composer but perhaps also invited us to think of remembrance as something positive and transformative rather than tragic.

Remembering was framed by two works by J.S. Bach (BWV 118 and 106). The latter cantata was later given the title Actus Tragicus, but it was not entirely tragic: for Bach, death primarily offered access to something better. That sense of consolation was harder to find in this performance, where the small orchestra of The Baroque Society lacked energy and momentum. Yngvild Haaland Ruud, seated behind the small organ in the middle of the ensemble, provided insufficient musical direction to bring the players together. The tempo was far too ponderous, and the music lingered too much on the feeling or memory of the sounds just heard. Still, it was refreshing to encounter a new work by Nick Martin – an invitation to remember at All Saints’ Day.

The concert will be repeated in Copenhagen, Helsingør and Gentofte over the coming days

English translation: Andreo Michaelo Mielczarek

in briefrelease

25.09

An Organ in the Dark Forest of Doubt

Calum Builder: »Although Changed, I Arise the Same«

Thanatosis, 25.09

Kristoffer Møllegaard

Last year, Builder released Poor_in_Spirit, an album in which he explored, on his own, the sonic possibilities of his self-built organ. It was an album shaped by this exploration, but ultimately also by the limitations of the organ itself. On Although Changed, I Arise the Same, the composer finds a way beyond them.

The organ is now joined by three additions: Builder’s own alto saxophone, along with the voices of Zola Mennenöh and Johanna Sulkunen. It makes all the difference, providing the diversity of instrumentation that Builder has repeatedly demonstrated his ability to compose for. At times, the organ’s bass sinks beneath the voices and saxophone like a light haze; at others, it envelops them in a heavy fog. It howls like wind in the trees and roars like a train in the night. Mennenöh and Sulkunen sing, chant and breathe simple, repetitive phrases about spiritual uncertainty and searching, as though lost in the dark forest of doubt.

It is a Spartan form of storytelling, giving the listener enough lyricism and atmosphere to set the mind in motion, but never so much that it becomes overwhelming. This is where Builder’s strength lies: his music clearly grows out of his life and experiences, yet he composes in such a way that the listener is invited to enter the story with their own imagination.

Builder determines the colours, but leaves part of the picture to the listener. It is an album that is far more restrained in its dramaturgy than previous releases. No less beautiful or inspiring for it.

English translation: Andreo Michaelo Mielczarek

playlist

25.09

We are Echo, Bravo – would you like to see our playlist?

»For us, music is a transcendent force with transformative potential – something we get to experience and shape when we create sound together. It is an opportunity to describe one’s innermost universes without words, and the best way for an introvert to express intense emotions at full volume.«

With roots in Copenhagen’s experimental jazz and punk scene, Echo, Bravo challenges the notion of what a rock band can sound like. The quintet blends post-punk, free punk, and noise rock into a raw and unpredictable soundscape. They describe the music themselves as a kind of »empty-the-fridge soup,« where various leftovers come together. »Best enjoyed as a hot meal in a cold industry.«

playlist

21.09

My name is Luca Quintavalle – would you like to see my playlist?

»Music is the best way to discover myself and understand the world around me.«

Luca Quintavalle is a harpsichordist, fortepianist and conductor. He has performed with ensembles including Concerto Köln, Harmonie Universelle, the Mozarteum Orchestra Salzburg and the Kölner Kammerorchester at venues and festivals such as the Kölner Philharmonie, Salzburg Festival and Enescu Festival. He was harpsichordist of Les Musiciens du Prince, led by Cecilia Bartoli, for over five years, and has conducted ensembles including the Orchestra and Chorus of Teatro dell’Opera di Roma, Concerto Köln and Deutsche Kammerakademie Neuss. His recordings include Mirrors, released by Berlin Classics and awarded an OPUS KLASSIK.

in brieflive

21.09

The Trombone Finds Its Quiet Side

Francisco Coll: »Tapias«

Stavanger Concert Hall, 17.09.26

Andrew Mellor

At 19, the Spanish composer (and trombonist) Francisco Coll wrote a wild-child of a trombone concerto that pushed the instrument out of its comfort zone. 22 years later he has created a new piece from some of that material. Its priorities are the opposite.

Tapias embraces the lyrical, ethereal qualities of the trombone. It is not a concerto, insists Coll. Perhaps it could be described as a set of frescoes for trombone and orchestra. Whatever the category, it’s a beguiling piece that was gorgeously birthed on Thursday by Ian Bousfield, conductor Nuno Coelho and a sumptuous-sounding Stavanger Symphony Orchestra.

Composers from Sibelius to Turnage have reacted against caricatures of the trombone as brusque and clowning by exploring its dark-hued lyricism. Coll does something more, setting his soloist’s introspective, intervallic melodies in evocative and provocative orchestral contexts. The soloist’s lines can resemble spray-canned tracings on walls already heavy with the patina of history, decoration and graffiti.

Initially the trombone appears to seek repose. The second movement draws it into more agility but the dancing is suppressed: a layered burying of all manner of rhythms from flamenco to Hiphop. Great wodges of rich harmony weigh the boogying down for good.

The trombone does find peace in the final movement – its long, soulful melodies more yielding. But not before Coll has conjured up moments of huge harmonic strain and conscious orchestral magnificence. They sat well next to Coelho’s fierce performance of Shostakovich’s Symphony No 5 after the interval. But Bousfield’s heartfelt journey through Tapias, sounding entirely at one with the orchestra, will linger longest in the mind.

Only at the End Did the Music Break Free

An Organ in the Dark Forest of Doubt

We are Echo, Bravo – would you like to see our playlist?

Thorbjørn Tønder Hansen (1971-2026)

My name is Luca Quintavalle – would you like to see my playlist?

The Trombone Finds Its Quiet Side