in brief
04.04.2023

Rokoko-blåt begær

Nikki Martin & Blue Luminaire: »Terroir«
© Benjamin Tarp
© Benjamin Tarp

Nikki Martin og deres ensemble Blue Luminaire breder sig på tværs af stilarter og århundreder, fra tidlig musik til ambient musik via jazz og mere. Men der er et stærkt lydfingeraftryk på dette, deres første album for Bella Union.

Det er et album i ordets sandeste betydning. På tværs af ti tracks trækker Terroirs vejret stødt ind og ud, og man mærker smerten ved hver udånding. Det kræver et pund følelsesmæssigt kød fra lytteren: Hverken emnet eller optagelsens intime karakter tillader rent objektiv lytning. Martins rene kontratenorstemme er lige i dit øre.

Smerte, længsel og en vis følelse af katarsis er hjørnestenene på et album, der med vilje ligger i et slags følelsesmæssigt ingenmandsland – den stramme organisme af stemmer og instrumenter, der sidder fast og svinger mellem to uforpligtende akkorder (»Closeness Sighs«, »Feel Your Skin Against Mine«, »Tangled«), begrænset af febril homofoni (»Held«) eller styret af antydninger af gamle former som passacaglia (»Falling«). Et bagland af detaljer føjer til denne stemning: Rokoko-vrid, ømt gamba-spil, kurren som fra hængende fugle.

Alt dette tilknappede begær bryder til sidst ud i slutningen af ​​»Worlds«, en pæn kulmination efterfulgt af en rensende epilog »My«. Nogle gange prøver musikken at vride for mange tårer fra et enkelt ord eller gestus. Nogle gange længes man efter udvikling, der vil løsne en sang fra sin faste position (selvom det sandsynligvis ville besejre objektet). Nogle gange er det alt for tæt på at lyde helt slidt. Men med tiden afslører Terroir sig bestemt som et medrivende lyt.

in brieflive
24.05

The Electronic Altar

 Fascia, Soli City, Nagaver
© PR
© PR

The table is a practical prop at most electronic music concerts. It has almost become a symbol of how electronic music is denied the same expressive, physical gestural language as acoustic music. This rigid symbolism was thankfully broken when the concert network Up Node hosted a showcase evening at Alice, featuring three emerging experimental electronic artists from Norway, Sweden, and Denmark.

The MacBook stood enthroned like an altar as Swedish artist Fascia opened the evening, holding a blinking flashlight above her head – each flash triggering brutal bursts of noise. When she placed a webcam in her mouth and projected the table’s mysterious objects onto the screen behind her, the boundary between stage and audience dissolved through simple yet cunning technology.

Next to his MIDI keyboard, Danish artist Soli City had his trademark moving-head lamp. Like a robotic head, the lamp lit up and rotated in sync with epic crescendos and computerized voices. Soli City’s music is built around field recordings and classical instrumentation – strings and piano – forming a universe that exposes the tension between human and technology. The animated lamp and dramatic light show took centre stage, while composer Harald Bjørn stood like a hidden puppeteer, gently guiding the futuristic narrative forward.

The table in front of Norwegian artist Nagaver had been laid flat on the stage floor, forming a low wall. Behind it knelt Ilavenil Vasuky Jayapalan, who unleashed hard-hitting, dark rhythms from a DJ mixer, enveloping Alice in a transcendent haze. The concert evolved from driving trance into a kind of karaoke performance, with Jayapalan singing over dusty tracks—and unfortunately the music felt more like a run-through than a fully realized concert.

Behind the table lie untapped potentials for auditory innovation, but practical constraints often limit performative expression. The concerts by Fascia and Soli City succeeded in breaking the boundary between mere execution and true performance, reminding us that not all music needs to be presented with the same gestures – and that sometimes all it takes is a webcam and a laser lamp to make that clear.

in briefrelease
21.05

Emergent Music

Lauri Supponen: »Dwell«
© Tuomas Tenkanen
© Tuomas Tenkanen

As an abstract micro manifesto Lauri Supponen describes his interest in »music that inhabits a second space and lingers there«, an invitation for us to dwell in the moment and discover music in its quiet emergence. 

»Gaz aux étages«, the first composition on Supponen’s breathtaking album, seems to test this idea as it unfolds with whispered bow strokes devoid of pitch. It is as if the piece itself is an entity wondering if it will prove to be music as it tentatively investigates its own constituent components. A subtle opening to an album that answers this question with clarity in its eponymous second work »Dwell« (tracks 2–5), exploring a fascinating microtonal realm. In virtuoso performances of astonishing accuracy, guitarist Petri Kumela and vocalist Tuuli Lindeberg bring Supponen’s demanding four-movement duo to life. The guitar writing in Dwell recalls Norwegian composer Martin Rane Bauck’s Fretted with Golden Fire with its drone-like microtonal strumming – a connection substantiated by the album notes, which reveal both composers know each other and have collaborated with bass clarinetist Madison Greenstone. 

The dwelling-space Supponen offers in »Eau & gaz à tous les étages« and »Opus Nen«, return the listener to a more remote sonic space, reminiscent of the album’s opening albeit with tighter compositional sense. Performed with intensity by Madison Greenstone and baritone saxophonist Sikri Lehko, they consolidate the pervasive feeling that Dwell is a uniquely inspired collaboration.

© PR

»Every moment is nothing but the uttermost end of the past. Music makes this edge wide and beautiful.«

Sven Helbig is a German composer and producer known for combining orchestral and choral music with electronic elements and a strong poetic sensibility. A self-taught musician raised in Eisenhüttenstadt, he released his debut album Pocket Symphonies on Deutsche Grammophon to critical acclaim for its emotional depth and formal precision. Helbig has collaborated with ensembles such as the BBC Singers, Fauré Quartett, and Staatskapelle Dresden, as well as with artists like Rammstein and the Pet Shop Boys. He just released REQUIEM A on Deutsche Grammophon. It is a deeply personal and reflective composition, intertwining classical Latin liturgical texts with new ones written by Helbig himself. The work revolves around themes of loss, memory, and the possibility of renewal – with the »A« in the title symbolizing Anfang (beginning) and the belief in a new start after devastation.

© Kåre Viemose

»Recently, I discovered that when a couple of thousand people clap their thick gloves in minus 30 degrees, it sounds like the softest techno – a freezing space where the cold air turns into a wave of warmth, and we, in a moment of collective devotion, become one with the rhythm, one with the invisible bond that connects us in the warmth of silence. Music is not just sounds, but a vain attempt to capture the infinite, which has always been and always will be.«

Andreo Michaelo Mielczarek has been the editor-in-chief of Seismograf since 2021. He is also a music critic and cultural journalist at Kristeligt Dagblad and Århus Stiftstidende/Avisen Danmark and has over the years written to publications such as Kunsten.nu, Glissando (Poland), Neural (Italy), Raw Vision (UK), Nutida Musik (Sweden), Kunstkritikk (DK/Sweden), Iscene.dk, B.T., and Jazz Special. He is the author (together with Lars Muhl) of the book HVA' SAA! En guidet rutsjebanetur gennem Aarhus – før, nu og i fremtiden (2024) and has also contributed to the anthology on music criticism Man skal høre meget (ed. Thomas Michelsen and Claus Røllum-Larsen, 2024). He is a founder and partner in the Polish-Danish cultural organization Kultur(a), and wherever there is a piano, he will be there, eager to coax a melody from it.