Lækkert …og lidt kedeligt
Jeg måtte lige tjekke kalenderen: var jeg blevet transporteret tilbage til år 2006? Klangen på »Coral«, titelnummeret på den nye EP fra Olof Dreijer, lyder nemlig meget som lyden af Dreijers gamle familieband The Knifes Silent Shout-album. Kolde fm-klange, der lige nøjagtigt har nok bevægelse i sine overtoner til, at de bliver dejligt interessante at fordybe sig i. De kolde synthesizere varmes dog dog hurtigt op i mødet med latinamerikanske klokker, der sammen med en brølende bas ændrer nummerets fokus fra klang til hoftevrik.
Det er ikke noget nyt greb at sætte funktionelt dansemusik i møde med et tæppe af omgivelsesmusik. Wolfgang Voights GAS-projekt har excelleret i at vise, hvad der sker, når et klangtæppe møder en puls, man kan danse til, og danske Kasper Marott har omvendt vist, hvor meget man kan variere et housenummer ved at kombinere det med feltoptagelser af lydmiljøer.
Desværre bliver Coral en smule blodfattig. Klokkernes claver når aldrig helt op i den polyrytmiske intensitet, som man kender det fra eksempelvis samba, og de omgivende lyde virker halvbagte. Det er synd, for den støjende kakofoni, der findes i eksempelvis samba, havde været et oplagt klangmateriale at bearbejde, for Dreijer er virkelig dygtig til at bearbejde lyd. Det hele lyder lækkert.
EP'ens resterende to numre er skabt med præpareret klaver og fuglefløjter. Her viser Dreijer sig som en dygtig musiker, der får lavet nogle virkelig flotte gestikulationer med klaveret, som lyder meget mildt af et præpareret klaver at være. Fløjterne er også et godt valg, fordi de giver en spøjs halvnaturlig klang, der smukt tegner et rum op. Men det lyder også bare som en boullionterning af virkelig meget ambientmusik, man har hørt før.
An Organ in the Dark Forest of Doubt
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
»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.«
Thorbjørn Tønder Hansen has died. With Thorbjørn’s passing, the art music community has lost one of the Nordic region’s most significant producers, curators and cultural leaders.
»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.