in brief
16.03.2021

Doing it anyway

Mikkel Schou: Debut Concert I-II
Mikkel Schou. © The Royal Danish Academy of Music
Mikkel Schou at his Debut Concert. © The Royal Danish Academy of Music

Schou is a powerhouse – unafraid to try new things, push himself in new directions, and pull us all along with him. We sorely need this energy, and we are lucky to have Schou and his do-it-anyway attitude.

But sometimes do-it-anyway needs tempering a little. Schou spoke about how he prepared this concert without guidance from his teachers. Brave, but I missed a guiding hand, a sharper focus. Both concerts were too long, and not always coherent. I sensed an artist who has defined himself by who he isn’t, but not yet by who he is.

Still, there were glimpses of a unique personality. Stefan Prins’ Generation Kill was an odd choice to start a debut concert with – Schou’s back was facing the audience, and the piece did little to highlight his skills as a performer (I also hated the piece, but that’s a personal matter). So I’m going to pretend that the concert started with Johannes Kreidler’s Guitar Piece – a vile little video-nasty to which Schou fully committed. A perfect manifesto – the absolute nerve of presenting two years of soloist class education by eating your guitar. I wish we’d had more of this playfulness.

But the energy sagged with a disparate selection of pieces that seemed more like a composer class concert than a presentation of a fresh artistic profile. Props to Schou for this – using your debut concert to focus on younger composers is bold, and should be celebrated. I just wish we’d had more Schou. My highlight was Emil Vijgen’s Photobooth Study, where Schou got to engage with his instrument in a different way, let loose a little, and be a soloist.

Schou may present himself as a force of nature, and he is, but there is an air of sensitivity (reticence, even) to his presence that does not always match up with the pieces being performed. Rob Durnin’s What, de facto could have benefitted from some more ‘fuck you’ attitude – the performance was oddly shy.

The late-night concert’s improvisation was fun: it’s always a joy to see Marcela Lucatelli and Henrik Olsson improvise (although Schou was the clear third wheel). However, the concert was overlong, and did not add much to Schou’s profile. I get that he wanted to show more sides of himself, but, again, it came at the expense of focus. Replacing Esben Nordborg Møller’s bloated Drones with Sarah Nemtsov’s lounge-jazz tinged Seven Colours from earlier would both shorten the concerts and sharpen the intention.

But these things are matters of polish. Schou is a rare and exceptional artist, and deserves accolades for his work and for these concerts. With more confidence and time to refine his vision, there is no doubt that Schou will be an essential fixture on the new music scene for years to come.

in brieflive
12.10.2024

You Just Want to Disappear into These Cosmic Hordes of Sound

Christian Skjødt Hasselstrøm: »Myriader«
© Niels Nygaard
© Niels Nygaard

British Burial should have once said that in his music he strives to reproduce the experience of standing outside a club and feeling the rhythms on the asphalt. Distances are fascinating. The sounds in Christian Skjødt Hasselstrøm's work Myriads in an enormous water container at the Ole Rømer Observatory comes from afar. It is rain from space, cosmic radiation or high-energy particles, which are translated into sound via three detectors. They also flash with light in the pillared hall, and when you grope your way to them through the darkness, they puff softly and innocently. But when you walk around the 1,662 square meter room, the sounds still seem a little bit threatening – like artillery drums, sounds from modern wars or warning signals from ancient warlords... The sounds are always very far away and rumble at a low frequency in the room with a reverberation of 40 seconds. But they are just peaceful phenomena from distant galaxies, and they hardly want us any harm. They just make us feel so infinitely small. Hasselstrøm did the same to us in a former cereal silo in the city of Struer.

»You can get salt and minerals on your clothes. It can be washed off,« warned the guide, now ringing a bell. But what if you don't want to get rid of that sound at all and don't want to go home to Aarhus, but just want to stay deep underground for more than the given 15 minutes and disappear into the cosmic and very delicious hordes of sound? Distances are fascinating, and Myriads is better – more enriching – than any club in Aarhus’ Latin Quarter.

in brieflive
09.09.2024

Every Ending Is Also a New Beginning

Aarhus Symfoniorkester, Allan Gravgaard Madsen and Morten Riis: »Away« 
© Alexis Rodríguez Cancino
© Alexis Rodríguez Cancino

Allan Gravgaard Madsen’s and Morten Riis’s Away is a »mixed media« orchestral work. The physical orchestra is supplemented by sound and video recordings from the basement of Aarhus Theatre (woodwind quintet), Aarhus Cathedral (brass quintet), and Marselisborghallen (string orchestra). All of these locations have, at various points over the past 90 years, housed the Aarhus Symphony Orchestra.

Away opens with the final two chords of the overture to Rossini’s William Tell (1829), which are explored throughout the orchestra. Gradually, musicians leave the ensemble, only to reappear later in smaller constellations in recordings from the aforementioned locations. Through technology, the orchestra plays across time and space in a highly successful manner.

The work explores stasis and movement, with air as a central device: the wind players often blow into their instruments without producing tones, while the string players imitate the sound of wind using plastic bags. For me, Away has three highlights. Trumpets and percussion play phrases that turn out to anticipate a video of a flutist walking through the city. The trumpets mimic the sound of a truck – »beep-bop-beep-bop« – and the percussion becomes the flutist’s stilettos. Musique concrète turned on its head! At one point, half of the string players are seen sitting in a circle, playing intensely dissonant chords, only to kill them again – the physical shock activated my ears. The third highlight comes when the entire orchestra plays together again while all three projections are running simultaneously. Here, the work can truly begin, and one clearly senses the energy rising in the room. But – unfortunately – as soon as this climax is reached, the intensity drops again.

At just under 45 minutes, Away is, unfortunately, slightly too long and static for my taste. The effect of the aforementioned ruptures might not have been as strong in a shorter format, but I would have wished for just a bit more of the intensity the work so clearly was capable of delivering. I was left with a somewhat flat feeling. The piece also ended so quietly that several people were unsure whether it had actually finished and whether we could applaud.

in brieflive
31.08.2024

Fear and Heavy Curtains in Aarhus

Aarhus Festuge: Hotel Pro Forma: »Flammenwerfer«
Blixa Bargeld. © Emma Larsson
Blixa Bargeld. © Emma Larsson

»All sounds are loud,« we hear in Flammenwerfer – Hotel Pro Forma’s account of the Swedish painter Carl Fredrik Hill (1849–1911). Everything in this universe is transparent and layered. The orange hue in Hill’s art, flickering across the stage, crackles with both a beautifully golden noise and a psychedelic quality reminiscent of 1970s ceramics. In a central scene, Blixa Bargeld half-screams into a microphone and receives looped screams hurled back into his head. The patchwork of sound also includes five vocalists from IKI and selected pieces – the only music here that comes close to pop – by Nils Frahm.

The dark circles under the eyes are constantly pronounced. As are the letters that signal a new chapter, the next dive into the mind – for instance the section titled »Paranoia«. Here, IKI expands Einstürzende Neubauten’s »Halber Mensch« into five voices, allowing the hallucinations and anxiety to grow to full human scale. Yes, the sound was loud and numbing in itself. But it is largely thanks to IKI that we feel the extremes, the brain disease, and Hill’s experience of a »misarranged world«. They sang: »Heavy curtains drawn over the mind. A thick deadening cloud that blocks the use of senses.« And that is how it sounded. Cold. Like the saddest Instagram filter imaginable – with sound.

Unfortunately, Blixa Bargeld is used too sparingly in Flammenwerfer, which is not exactly a masterpiece from Hotel Pro Forma. Still, the gala audience sat very still in very soft seats and saw both a giraffe and a former queen on the same evening. The rest of Aarhus Festuge can only be more cheerful.

© Roberto Bordiga

»Music for me is bumping, rubbing, colliding, sliding and sculpting... in space-time. AKA the gift that keeps giving <3 .«  

Greta Eacott is a critically acclaimed British/Swedish composer based in Copenhagen, Denmark. She is primarily known for her boundary pushing experimental percussion works and her »sans-disciplinary« approach to music composition; which incorporates spatial aesthetics, design theory and physical movements as integral elements in the musical compositions. This manifests in a unique and modern musical aesthetic which is both playful and refined, agitating and welcoming, sensual and synthetic. Since 2014 she has been running the DIY record label One Take Records.