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.

© Ditte Capion

»For me music is an irregular yet life-long event that requires constant attention in the form of private preparation, rehearsals with others, and performances to audiences.« 

Theater of Voices' founder and artistic director Paul Hillier is originally from England and was educated there Guildhall School of Music and Drama in London. During his career, he has worked as a conductor, singer, teacher, editor and writer. In addition to being the founder of the legendary Hilliard Ensemble, he has been chief conductor for i.a. the Estonian Philharmonic Chamber Choir, is artistic director of The National Chamber Choir of Ireland, and has been chief conductor of Ars Nova Copenhagen since 2003. Paul Hillier has completed more than 200 CD/DVD releases and has won two Grammys. Honors include OBE (Order of the British Empire), The Order of the White Star from Estonia and the Knight's Cross. This week Paul Hillier turns 75. 

In briefrelease
08.02.2024

Behind the Words

Alexander Tillegreen: »In Words« 
© PR
© PR

One of the most mysterious – and at times boundary-pushing – interviews ever captured on tape is Meatball Fulton’s 1967 interview with Pink Floyd’s Syd Barrett. Filled with broken sentences, incongruous word combinations, questions and answers that seem to bear no relation to one another, and pauses that feel endless, the interview pushes the limits of what can meaningfully be called communication at all. »Your impression of me… which you must have… would you care to tell me? And be like absolutely honest… Do you have one?« the interviewer asks at one point. »In words?« Barrett replies.

In Words is also the title of multidisciplinary artist Alexander Tillegreen’s debut album, whose closing composition samples a full seven minutes of the interview. It is not difficult to understand what Tillegreen hears in this peculiar exchange. For someone who, in his artistic explorations of psychoacoustics and phantom words, has consistently probed sound’s possibilities and limitations as a carrier of meaning, the interview must appear as a rather sensational example of the illusory nature of language.

None of this would, of course, be of any interest if the music were not as strong as it is: richly atmospheric, detailed, texturally varied, emotionally potent, and filled with pleasing, warm synth tones that recall 1970s German Kosmische Musik. The fact that a large part of the compositions originate in earlier installation works often leaves me with the strange feeling that there is a dimension or context I do not fully grasp – which, of course, is entirely in keeping with Tillegreen’s spirit.

© PR

Phil Battiekh (Basel, Switzerland) has been a Mahraganat  DJ and producer for over a decade. He is one of the first to dedicate himself to Mahraganat outside of Egypt. In addition to his most popular Mahraganat mixes on Soundcloud (over 450K streams worldwide),  he released the acclaimed Cairo Concepts compilation in 2019. Featuring DJ Plead, DJ Haram, Alaa Fifty, Nustaliga and others, Cairo Concepts contextualises the impact and developments of the Mahraganat scene and examines the way certain artists have appropriated Mahraganat for club scenarios.  

Mahraganat (Egyptian Arabic: مهرجانات( , which literally means »festivals«, is a mix of Egyptian Shaabi, electronic dance music, rap and trap. It is characterized by percussion-heavy rhythms,  massive bass and loads of autotune. Phil Battiekh is curating the SWANA night – a joint event by pantropical, turkis, and Volume Village, which takes place at the latter in Aarhus. Next to his own set, Phil will  also have a role as Wezza Montaser's DJ. 

Bill Frisell. © Carole D'Inverno

Bill Frisell’s career as a guitarist and composer has spanned more than 40 years and many celebrated recordings. From Aaron Copeland and Charles Ives to Bob Dylan and Madonna. His mantra is simple: »I like when it's impossible to tell at first if something is black or white, or country or blues, or whatever«. 

Born in Baltimore, Bill Frisell played clarinet throughout his childhood in Denver, Colorado. His interest in guitar began with his exposure to pop music on the radio.