Goosebumps In the Courtroom: When Music Turns Into a Power Play
A newly composed opera staged in a courtroom may sound like a banal trick. But as I step into the waiting hall of the Aarhus Courthouse for Niels Rønsholdt and Louise Beck’s Den Stærkes Ret – Den Svages Pligt (The Right of the Strong – The Duty of the Weak), I wonder for a moment if I’ve come to the wrong place. An oblong room, tables scattered about, a balcony above – and then a sheet of music in a glass display case that normally would hold old legal documents. The scenography is discreet, but the legal framework immediately sparks reflections on law, power, and justice.
Soon, nearly 20 singers appear on the balcony. The music is tonal, carried by resonance and repeated phrases that gradually shift like a canon. You sense borrowings from minimalism, but also a near-folklike simplicity that makes the choir both enchanting and unsettling. The plot – a daughter confronting her father’s ghost to claim his weapon – emerges only in fragments. It is the atmosphere that drives the work, and it changes radically when the singers leave the balcony and place themselves among the audience, while three dancers move through the hall.
A pivotal moment comes when the choir suddenly strikes tuning forks and places them on the tables, sending a vibrating »wuu-uu« through the room. Goosebumps arrive instantly. Moments later, the singers address us directly, holding intense eye contact. It feels both intimate and transgressive, like being spoken to in court with no chance to reply. I wanted to look away, but felt compelled to hold their gaze. Here, the title became physical: the duty of the weak to submit.
As the work fades out, all the singers turn against the father and side with the daughter. Books are torn from the shelves, pages ripped out, and as »Listen and learn« is sung, Orwell’s 1984 flickers in the back of my mind. It is both disturbing and uncannily timely in an era where obedience to authority and manipulation again shape public discourse.
Den Stærkes Ret is one of the most intense musical experiences I have had in years. It unites aesthetics, body, and social commentary in a way that makes you shudder. I am already waiting for acts two and three.
English translation: Andreo Michaelo Mielczarek
»Music is my life. It has accompanied me all the way and given me experiences, friendships and opportunities that I could never have imagined.«
Pablo Fernández is a Spanish musician and the new Head of Classical Music at the Royal Academy of Music, Aarhus/Aalborg. For many years, he was principal tuba player with the Barcelona Symphony Orchestra and has taught at higher music education institutions in Spain and Denmark. He is also active as a conductor, soloist, guest lecturer and jury member at international competitions. Fernández has extensive experience in the management and development of music projects, festivals and international collaborations. He has lived in Aarhus since 2014 and has been affiliated with the Royal Academy of Music since 2021.
»Music is, to us, a kind of closed club of nepotism, networking and Copenhagen cowboy energy. But in reality, it’s got nothing to do with expensive guitars or technical skill. For us, music is something you can feel in your chest, or something that gives you goosebumps. The best concerts are when someone screams so earnestly that the rest of us don’t have to. The best music expresses emotions in a way that would get you picked up by an ambulance if you did it out on the street. For us, music should fuck with the people who have it too comfortable, and give those who have it fucked a feeling that they’re not alone. Boom. And what the fuck is a chord and a key anyway? Kisses from Nightmaries.«
Nightmaries blend saws, guitars and voices into a dark-country, no-wave, cowboy-doom nightmare. They create the kind of soundtrack that feels like a fever dream you somehow don’t want to wake up from. As the world gets stranger and darker, Nightmaries lean into the madness, serving up slow-burning songs that creep under your skin like a poison that takes its sweet time. Put on your favourite steel-toe boots, dip your smoky eyes in an ashtray, and prepare yourself for sloppy doom with punk energy.
»To me, music is love. I love how music allows you to skip the small talk and connect directly with people’s innermost selves. It is an extraordinary and moving way to meet one another.«
Fenja wrote her first song at the age of twelve – about a polar bear dying due to climate change – and themes of existentialism, nature, and her own sensitive nature came to define the lyrics and sound she has since developed. She released her debut album, Flugtdyr, in 2021, and in February 2026, she released the album Menneskedyr.
Danish composer Sofus Forsberg has died at the age of 56. With his distinctive blend of melodic sensibility, electronic processing and rhythmic precision, he created a musical world that moved effortlessly between IDM, pop and the avant-garde.
»Music for me is my hobby, my job, my outlet, my mood, an endless source of discovering new music and new, old music, some of the best and can be some of the worst. And I love it!«
Track72 aka Tue Track aka Anders Lundby Brixen. Producer, DJ, rapper and more. Known for his role in the trio Malk De Koijn, which since the mid-1990s has created a personal universe in Danish hip-hop. Has performed in Ponyblod, Xtra Naan, Track Abdullah Rock, Booty Cologne and others.