James Black
28
Komponisternes nye go-to-pianist
Nikolaus von Bemberg: Debutkoncert
© Cecillie Klausen
Jeg tog chancen og fulgte den tyske pianist Nikolaus von Bembergs DKDM-debutkoncert online, lokket af ikke blot et program med Messiaen-uddrag, men en uropførelse af pianistens eget projekt A Day in the Life og en gentagelse af Connor McLeans timelange Fragments (2020-22), som tidligere er opført på Minu Festival.
Og hvilket held: Koncerten understregede, at det københavnske musikliv i Bemberg har fostret en pianist, der ikke kun har styr på temperamenterne i Messiaen, men også har ambitiøse ideer, når det gælder iscenesættelse og medvirken i unge komponisters udsyrede frembringelser.
A Day in the Life begyndte som musikpædagogik. Skuespilleren Bless Amada fortalte begejstret om sin første klassiske koncert; denne musik var anderledes, gjorde ham bevidst om sig selv: »Jeg var den eneste sorte.« Bemberg spillede langsomme, spredte toner, men Amada sank ind i en kaotisk verden af sinustoner og stress. Hørte Jürg Frey på lp og læste Rilkes breve om ensomhed.
Det lignede et portræt af pianisten, og pludselig dukkede en krumrygget Bemberg op i en hjemmevideo, hvor han spillede skrøbeligt på et faldefærdigt pianette. Til sidst: video af et kystlandskab, lyden af fuglefløjt. Fred efter små tre kvarter. Lidt langt? Tjo. Men fint og personligt.
McLeans fragmenterede coronaværk var endnu længere – alt for langt, ja, ligesom pandemien – men komponistens monologer undervejs nåede desværre ikke ud til os onlinelyttere. Jeg noterede mig dog en parodi på nordisk krimi-tv med et mord på James Black og med Bemberg, der på flygel og Juno-60 spillede klynger og gysermotiver. Det var da værd at tage med.
Men værket gik på flere måder altså lost in translation på sin vej ud til mig, så det må blive til revanche, når McLean selv debuterer fra DKDM 12. juni.
© Mads Nissen
»Music is what gets my gears turning. It sets both my body and mind in motion – and on a good day, even gets them up to speed. My listening habits are entirely shaped by my mood... and by the musical tastes of my two children, which shift every eight minutes... so the home stereo gets exposed to a bit of everything. In a way, that’s exactly how it should be. Room for everything and everyone.«
David Dyrholm (b. 1990) is a food and music critic for Politiken, focusing on jazz – ranging from the traditional to the modern—and avant-garde music. Alongside this, he has worked for the Modern Jazz Days festival, served on the jury for the DMA Jazz awards, and previously released a number of records with the hip-hop collective DoktorDoktor.
An Organ in the Dark Forest of Doubt
Calum Builder: »Although Changed, I Arise the Same«
© PR
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
© PR
»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.«
© Ultima
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.
© PR
»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.