in brieflive
30.10

Only at the End Did the Music Break Free

The Baroque Society: »Remembering«
© Malin Annie Jansson
© Malin Annie Jansson

The British composer Nick Martin, who is based in Copenhagen, attempts to give remembrance a sonic form in his brand-new work Remembering, written specifically for The Baroque Society. On Thursday evening at Grundtvig’s Church, he succeeded beautifully in parts of the fifteen-minute work for four singers and a small, intensely focused group of Baroque instruments.

Dense vocal textures lingered over harmonies that unfolded slowly, while allowing the soloists to emerge one by one. The static accompaniment provided a foundation for remembrance, over which the floating voices evoked the lost and departed. The harmonies gradually shifted in colour like clouds in the sky, constantly changing shape – seemingly at random, yet following what felt like a fixed, organic pattern. But the work became too long and passive. Only in its final minutes did the harmonies break apart, making room for welcome rhythmic variation and tantalising silences. Had this shift in form come earlier, Martin might have created a more compelling work. It nevertheless ended with a gem of an open, searching chord which not only demonstrated his gifts as a vocal composer but perhaps also invited us to think of remembrance as something positive and transformative rather than tragic.

Remembering was framed by two works by J.S. Bach (BWV 118 and 106). The latter cantata was later given the title Actus Tragicus, but it was not entirely tragic: for Bach, death primarily offered access to something better. That sense of consolation was harder to find in this performance, where the small orchestra of The Baroque Society lacked energy and momentum. Yngvild Haaland Ruud, seated behind the small organ in the middle of the ensemble, provided insufficient musical direction to bring the players together. The tempo was far too ponderous, and the music lingered too much on the feeling or memory of the sounds just heard. Still, it was refreshing to encounter a new work by Nick Martin – an invitation to remember at All Saints’ Day.

The concert will be repeated in Copenhagen, Helsingør and Gentofte over the coming days

English translation: Andreo Michaelo Mielczarek

Bill Frisell. © Carole D'Inverno

»I like when it's impossible to tell at first if something is black or white, or country or blues, or whatever.«

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. 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.

© PR

»Music has been a healing balm for me.«

John William Grant is an American singer, musician, and songwriter holding both American and Icelandic citizenship. He first came to prominence as a co-founder, lead vocalist, pianist, and primary songwriter of the alternative rock band The Czars. After releasing six albums between 1994 and 2006, the band disbanded, and Grant withdrew from music for four years before embarking on a solo career.

He returned in April 2010 with a critically acclaimed debut album recorded in collaboration with Midlake. Queen of Denmark was named Album of the Year 2010 by Mojo magazine and was also selected as one of the ten best albums of 2010 by The Guardian’s music critics and writers.

© Malthe Folke Ivarsson

»In his music, composer Allan Gravgaard Madsen tries to create a better version of himself.« 

Allan Gravgaard Madsen is a Danish composer based in Copenhagen. His most recent works include Träume nicht and Nachtmusik. He tries to create a better version of himself in his music – where his personality tends to be restless, chatty and has an active inner life, his music is controlled, simple and merciless in its expression. He is the recipient of the Carl Nielsen & Anne Marie Carl-Nielsens Hæderspris 2022.

in briefrelease
23.01.2022

Finnish Space Travel

Tomutonttu: »Hoshi«
© Tomutonttu: »Hoshi«
© Tomutonttu: »Hoshi«

The Finnish multimedia artist Jan Anderzén has, with the album Hoshi, released under the solo moniker Tomutonttu, created a true little star. Not only because »hoshi« literally means »star« in Japanese, but above all due to the music itself. There is something cosmic, yet infinitely minute, about the sonic worlds Anderzén conjures—like a galaxy reflected in a puddle, or a space journey in a rocket carved from a hollow tree trunk. Synths emit busy, warm blips and bloops, while ultra-short vocal and instrumental samples create a recognizable blur. At once artificial and organic – soft, rounded, jagged, crackling.

Anderzén approaches sound with a playfulness I simply adore. His music is strange in an incredibly comforting way. It places me in a kind of colorful, trance-like state, only interrupted when, several times over the course of the album, I find myself smiling in delight at a particularly great sound. The synths on »Katse osuu sähköön!« The choral samples on »Kesä oli äkkiä ohi!« Milo Linnovaara’s flute on »Malta lausua ‘AH’!« And many more. Hoshi is an album packed with microscopic moments that together form a frayed, exploding, radiant, idiosyncratic whole—a stellar moment of just under 38 minutes.