The theme has been revisited countless times in music history, but ELECTRIO (Francesco Rista, Simone Giordano and Sandra Lind Þorsteinsdóttir) attempt to give Stabat Mater a new expression, combining guitar, vocals and electronics with Latin texts, Monteverdi fragments and songs by Dowland. The ambition is clear, yet the result is uneven.
There are, however, two striking exceptions. The opening of Stabat Mater – recorded at the Royal Danish Academy of Music – is captivating in itself: a four-minute build-up that establishes a muted, hovering sense of expectation. But it lies so close to Pink Floyd’s »Shine On You Crazy Diamond« that one can almost hear the quotation shimmering underneath. The characteristic three guitar notes fall at exactly the same place, just before Sandra Þorsteinsdóttir’s voice enters. »Fac me Cruce« is shaped with attractive energy and dynamic form, making strong use of electronics, but ends abruptly before the music has truly begun to unfold. If only ELECTRIO had continued in this direction.
The harmonic foundations of the eight pieces are often predictable, as in »Sancta Mater«, in which the Holy Mother prays that the wounds of the crucified be imprinted upon her heart. The harshness of the text is entirely absent from the underlying feel-good guitar fingerpicking, which moves shamelessly through familiar chord progressions. No wounds. No suffering.
More generally, Þorsteinsdóttir rarely strays from conventional baroque phrasing or genuinely experiments with the genre. The result resembles a mirror version of Sting’s Dowland project from 2006: only inverted – here a classically oriented singer who keeps too respectful a distance to let the songs truly enter an experimental universe.
Why did the trio not instead draw inspiration from Pergolesi’s music for the same text and theme? His score brims with wild dissonances that a new interpretation could have explored to powerful effect – revealing more anguish and outward-turning sorrow.
English translation: Andreo Michaelo Mielczarek
»I like when it's impossible to tell at first if something is black or white, or country or blues, or whatever.«
Bill Frisell’s career as a guitarist and composer has spanned more than 40 years and many celebrated recordings. From Aaron Copeland and Charles Ives to Bob Dylan and Madonna. Born in Baltimore, Bill Frisell played clarinet throughout his childhood in Denver, Colorado. His interest in guitar began with his exposure to pop music on the radio.
»Music has been a healing balm for me.«
John William Grant is an American singer, musician, and songwriter holding both American and Icelandic citizenship. He first came to prominence as a co-founder, lead vocalist, pianist, and primary songwriter of the alternative rock band The Czars. After releasing six albums between 1994 and 2006, the band disbanded, and Grant withdrew from music for four years before embarking on a solo career.
He returned in April 2010 with a critically acclaimed debut album recorded in collaboration with Midlake. Queen of Denmark was named Album of the Year 2010 by Mojo magazine and was also selected as one of the ten best albums of 2010 by The Guardian’s music critics and writers.
»In his music, composer Allan Gravgaard Madsen tries to create a better version of himself.«
Allan Gravgaard Madsen is a Danish composer based in Copenhagen. His most recent works include Träume nicht and Nachtmusik. He tries to create a better version of himself in his music – where his personality tends to be restless, chatty and has an active inner life, his music is controlled, simple and merciless in its expression. He is the recipient of the Carl Nielsen & Anne Marie Carl-Nielsens Hæderspris 2022.
The Finnish multimedia artist Jan Anderzén has, with the album Hoshi, released under the solo moniker Tomutonttu, created a true little star. Not only because »hoshi« literally means »star« in Japanese, but above all due to the music itself. There is something cosmic, yet infinitely minute, about the sonic worlds Anderzén conjures—like a galaxy reflected in a puddle, or a space journey in a rocket carved from a hollow tree trunk. Synths emit busy, warm blips and bloops, while ultra-short vocal and instrumental samples create a recognizable blur. At once artificial and organic – soft, rounded, jagged, crackling.
Anderzén approaches sound with a playfulness I simply adore. His music is strange in an incredibly comforting way. It places me in a kind of colorful, trance-like state, only interrupted when, several times over the course of the album, I find myself smiling in delight at a particularly great sound. The synths on »Katse osuu sähköön!« The choral samples on »Kesä oli äkkiä ohi!« Milo Linnovaara’s flute on »Malta lausua ‘AH’!« And many more. Hoshi is an album packed with microscopic moments that together form a frayed, exploding, radiant, idiosyncratic whole—a stellar moment of just under 38 minutes.
