© Miriam Levi/Borealis

A Festival For Experiments – But Only When It Dares

Borealis in Bergen promises experimental music but falls short when it comes to traditional concert formats. Instead, magic emerges when the audience is invited out into the forest or into floating sound saunas.
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The Borealis festival plays with our expectations – precisely because it constantly undermines them. Marketed as a »festival for experimental music” and a well-kept secret among music lovers across Europe, it is actually at its weakest in the classic concert and performance formats, where it rarely becomes truly experimental. One example is the traditional concert with the Norwegian Navy Band, which this year featured premieres of works by Herborg Rundberg, Jason Yarde, and Kari Beate Tandberg. Here, the truly experimental move would have been to take a critical approach to the format itself – to the wind band as a historically and politically charged formation, also in Norway. 

© Thor Brødreskift/Borealis
© Thor Brødreskift/Borealis

But none of the three composers took up this challenge, and the result in Bergen Cathedral sounded exactly as one might expect from a military band – spiced with some impressionistic wave-like movements, since it was, after all, the navy and not the army playing.

All those emo-inspired school bands of the 2000s did it better than this bizarre trip down memory lane

Also at the International Culture House, where young composers presented their works, there was a lack of conviction: Evelin Lindberg’s cubicle for Ensemble Obsidian appeared characterless and dull, while Eira Sjaastad Huse’s Salmon Songs at least had some amusing text passages. Jakob Thonander Glans’s emo catharsis, on the other hand, felt amateurish and oddly nostalgic; all those emo-inspired school bands of the 2000s did it better than this bizarre trip down memory lane.

© Miriam Levi/Borealis
© Miriam Levi/Borealis

Completely different – and much more successful – was Bastard Assignments’ performance PIGSPIGSPIGS. The group – Timothy Cape, Edward Henderson, Caitlin Rowley, and Josh Spear – truly broke through this year with their eight-hour-long performances at Musik Installationen Nürnberg. Two months before in Bergen, they presented a tragicomic tale about a pig farmer, his wife, and son, balancing between Brexit critique, magical realism, and a good dose of British school comedy humor. And it worked – because these »bastards« are extremely skilled.

© Thor Brødreskift/Borealis
© Thor Brødreskift/Borealis

A finale without direction

Yet, the weaknesses were hard to ignore. For instance, the final concert with the local BIT20 Ensemble and a commissioned work by the South Korean cellist and composer Okkyung Lee. Lee had never before written for a large ensemble – and perhaps she should have refrained from doing so. Musically, Skylight was easy-to-digest minimalism (which isn’t necessarily bad per se); the setup in a large semicircle in Håkonshallen was only interesting at the beginning, and Lee’s attempt to »conduct« the ensemble herself – whatever that was meant to imply – became almost embarrassing, even provocatively self-assured.

Setyanto – wearing a (probably) pseudo-authentic costume inspired by Indonesian fishermen – instead spat on the seated audience

 © Miriam Levi/Borealis
 © Miriam Levi/Borealis

Equally frustrating was Ocean Cage at Bergen Kunsthall. The work was created by Chinese artist Tianzhuo Chen in collaboration with performer Siko Setyanto and Indonesian musician Nova Ruth. The audience was placed under a gigantic inflatable whale while the experimental Balinese gamelan duo Kadapat tried to bring them into a trance. It never succeeded, as Setyanto – wearing a (probably) pseudo-authentic costume inspired by Indonesian fishermen – instead spat on the seated audience and made grimaces. In the end, it was unclear whether this was meant as a critique of colonial power structures or merely a form of self-exoticization. Just like the Ed Atkins-inspired video aesthetics with grotesque digital faces, it all simply became too much and ended up annoying more than provoking.

 © Miriam Levi/Borealis
 © Miriam Levi/Borealis

A mountain, a hut, and the calm of sound

Nevertheless, there were moments when the festival truly shone, and where festival director Peter Meanwell’s vision of creating »sound communities« was fulfilled. Finnish architect, musician, and sauna enthusiast Tuomas Toivonen invited visitors to his specially built floating sound sauna Laugaren in Bergen harbor – an experience one could never get enough of.

Here, you sat on reindeer skins by a small hearth, drank tea while listening to the 40-minute sound piece by Sámi composer

Sondre Närva Pettersen's »Jiennagoahti«. © Thor Brødreskift
Sondre Närva Pettersen's »Jiennagoahti«. © Thor Brødreskift

Another highlight was Jiennagoahti, an earthen hut on one of the seven mountains surrounding the city, which could only be reached via a funicular and a short walk through an enchanting forest. Here, you sat on reindeer skins by a small hearth, drank tea while listening to the 40-minute sound piece by Sámi composer Sondre Närva Pettersen. The soundscape, combined with the rain softly tapping against the panoramic window facing the forest, created a moment of rare clarity and peace.

Borealis Festival, Bergen, Norway, March 12–17, 2025

English translation: Andreo Michaelo Mielczarek

The article is made in collaboration with the German magazine Positionen