© Rene Passet
© Rene Passet

The only thing  that might be missing was a yippie ki-yay from William Basinski when he took on the Copenhagen Distillery as part of The Last Symphony tour. »Buckle up bitches«, it sounded so raw that for a moment you thought it was Bruce Willis on stage. Basinski's riveting superstar charisma is the perfect contrast to his crumbling and self-indulgent ambient music.

The concert was refreshingly far from the extended space of contemplation I associate with Basinski's recorded works. His famous series The Disintegration Loops (2002-2003), in which the mortal world of tape loops crumbles in slow motion, was emblematic of the concerns many had around the turn of the millennium: Was the infinity of the brave new digital world actually the beginning of the end? Like no one else, Basinski manages to let the question of technological determinism sound open in his music: The patinated tape recordings contain no answer, but instead a curious state, where repetition and impermanence stop pulling at the sense of time from either side and instead come full circle.

It was fascinating to experience the way Basinski processed his loops. Every time he put a new sound into rotation, it seemed as if it was his first encounter with it. Quickly, a sucking field of reverberation and feedback arose, forming a sphere from the orbits of the tape loops. The analog sound sometimes gnawed at the music with its small clips and grinding compression.

The distance between the ambient terrains was short and the concert, which was followed by two encores, was more collage-like than the wasteland Basinski usually paints. The landscape was particularly captivating as a six-note motif consumed itself in reverberation and gave way to what sounded like Arabic ornamented chant. Basinski found transcendence in the high frequencies, and when at one point he extended a bright vocal sound beyond the murky tape environment, the boundary between heaven and earth disappeared. It was incomprehensibly beautiful to hear how the vocals hovered  like a radiant deity over the profane tape-recorded world. 

English translation: Andreo Michaelo Mielczarek

© PR

Pernille Andersen is a Danish actress, screenwriter, and singer. In the Pandemic lockdown she and her partner, British John Garrison, founded the band GlassEar. For years they had traveled apart pursuing their separate careers. But with all work cancelled for both, this new found time together gave the necessary time needed to try something new. A means to connect creatively. They recorded six songs about loneliness, love, family, career and the meaning of life as a new musical duo. They have just released their debut EP Nobody will get out alive. Pernille also stars as an actress in the upcoming season of the TV2 series Hvide Sande 2 and writes a film script in collaboration with The Global Ensemble Drama. The duo’s name GlassEar refers to their many years of communication in a digital time: Glass (screen) / Ear (phone).

Kortkritik
15.12.2023

Orglet er lydkunstens kreative motor

Organ Sound Art Festival: Amina Hocine, Sandra Boss, William Kudahl, Mads Kjelgaard
© @_francoadams_
© @_francoadams_

Jeg er helt sikkert ikke den eneste, der keder mig i kirker, når organister halvdovent taster løs uden at få melodierne til at leve. For på orglet kan musikeren ikke forme tonernes klang med anslaget. Den er givet. 

Eller hvad? De unge lydkunstnere får i disse dage meget mere klangfølsomhed frem med deres hjemmebyggede orgler i Koncertkirken, end mange musikere kan producere med en klavertangent.

Torsdag åbnede de fire dages smuk, smuk festival med fire værker. Her fik vi lov til at zoome helt ind i William Kudahls sindssygt lange orgeltoner optaget i en islandsk kirke og filtreret live til fire højttalere med alle mulige små impulser, interferencer og farvede overtoner som resultat. 

Vi fik også oplevelsen af at sidde rundt om Sandra Boss’ smukke, hjemmelavede orgel af fugleformede lerkander med vand, der peb, fløjtede, piblede, hvinede og trillede, når luftslanger blæste vind igennem dem. Svenske Amina Hocine åbnede endnu en dimension med sin fantastiske opfindelse – en slags akustisk synthesizer. Hun kunne sidde på gulvet og gradvist åbne ventiler til otte lodrette plastrør rundt om sig og langsomt og minutiøst forme pulserende, harmoniske, sfæriske klange med ren, sammenpresset luft. 

Jeg nåede ikke aftenens sidste værk, men fik i stedet Mads Kjeldgaards installation i krypten med i lyttehatten: en mørk kube med to virtuelle orgler, en sofa og fire højttalere, der under hele festivalen genererer musik med de besøgendes bevægelser. Heller ikke den skal man snyde sig for, hvis man kan komme forbi Nørrebro de næste dage. 

© Kasper Muusholm

Komponist og guitarist Emil Palme har lige udgivet sit solo-debutalbum Ripen. På albummet stryges sten som buer mod elguitarens strenge, der i messende og klagende mønstre frembringer en dystopisk og ceremoniel urlyd i grænsen mellem komposition og improvisation. Ripen handler om at fuldende og modne – men også om at betræde de forræderiske stier, som naturen dikterer, at alt levende skal gå, og den uundgåelige opløsning af formål, der opstår efter en opnået fuldkommenhed.

»Jeg oplever musik som noget magisk, som en kraft der kan kommunikere via energier, der ikke nødvendigvis kan forstås eller måles på. At skabe musik er for mig at have kontakt med den kraft.«

© PR

Iku Sakan is an electronic musician from Osaka, Japan. his music focuses predominantly on the potential of emotional developments through the repetitive rhythmic patterns, rotating harmonics, and resonating melodies. The decades of collecting constantly shifting sound materials, melding improvisation, and DJ'ing practices, has led him to create his own unique niche of organic music in the late 2010s. His most recent works incl. a remix for the French composer Yann Tiersen (via Mute Records) and the forthcoming musique-concrete-inspired tone poem LP OMNITOPOEIA. When you ask Sakan what music is the answer is short: »Music is the healing force.«

© Andre Hansen

»To me, music is about everything else.«

Mike Sheridan has been a part of the Copenhagen electronic musicscene since the mid 00’s. He entered the scene, barely in his teens, with his landmark debut album I Syv Sind (In Two Minds, 2008). Sheridan traced an ambient and dreamy approach, and with limited tools at hand, he constructed a teenage masterwork that few could have predicted. Among the first in his generation, Mike Sheridan launched his career to high acclaim, effectively crossing over to mainstream audiences.

Recent projects includes featuring on techno artist KÔLSCH’s album Isopolis (2021) and performances in Nicolai Howalt’s exhibhition A Journey: The Near Future at Gallery Martin Asbæk (2022). Yesterday Sherian released the album Atmospherics