Uncompromising Vignettes of Silence and Sighs
It seemed to come like a bolt from the blue when the Icelandic cellist and composer Hildur Guðnadóttir broke the sound barrier with an uncompromising, inward-looking sound situated between contemporary classical and experimental music – most widely recognised through her suffocating soundtracks for Chernobyl and Joker.
Yet on her Deutsche Grammophon debut Where to From, it is the personal spaces we are invited into. The instrumentation is pared right back to a chamber ensemble, voices, and extended passages of near-absolute silence. The result is often achingly beautiful – and deeply affecting.
The work unfolds in small vignettes, rarely lasting more than a couple of minutes, before vocals are introduced in the album’s second half – most notably in »Make Space« and the exquisite a cappella hymn »I Hold Close«. The equally beautiful »Melody of Not Knowing« explores the cello’s darkest registers, striking blue midnight tones in the echo of the heart, especially as it glides into »All Along«, where voice and strings merge.
Where to From is a powerfully mood-saturated work that moves effortlessly between chamber music and neoclassicism, finding its uncompromising character in the quietest, most intimate sighs between human and instrument. It is neither too little nor too much – always precisely measured. And for that very reason, Guðnadóttir remains such a compelling musical presence.
English translation: Andreo Michaelo Mielczarek
Finnish Space Travel
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.