In briefrelease
04.02

Poetic Nocturnal Rummaging

Bent Sørensen: »12 Nocturnes & Piano Concerto No. 3, La sera estatica«
Bent Sørensen. © Peter Christian Christensen
Bent Sørensen. © Peter Christian Christensen

Why is it that one can always recognize a lullaby? This musical archetype, circular and hushed, sung into us with mother’s milk. Composer Bent Sørensen’s solo piano cycle 12 Nocturnes is a tribute to the night’s musical cultural heritage. The nocturne – a nocturnal, lyrical composition – merges with, among other forms, lullabies and cantatas in a poetic narrative from sunset to sunrise about what is close at hand and yet unfathomable: that the sun rises, that children are born, that stars can be glimpsed through small windows on earth, that the piano can create worlds with twelve tones.

Bent Sørensen wrote the twelve short nocturnes between 2000 and 2014 for pianist (and wife) Katrine Gislinge. They have previously been released digitally. Now they appear as a studio recording paired with Piano Concerto No. 3, La sera estatica. The premiere of this “ecstatic evening” stands in contrast to the nocturnes’ simple, balanced forms. With a dramatic opening, multiple orchestral groups, and crackling storminess in the soundscapes, the dreamy nocturnal universe is ruptured by a surging ardor that unfolds in two parts, where purer melodic lines gradually take over the second – complete with a distinct (night?) bell.

Yet the piano concerto’s sovereign quality does not quite come into its own when presented as a postscript to the nocturnes’ rounded narrative. The two elements work best separately, so that the ecstatic evening for full orchestra does not puncture the magic of stars scattered blinking across the piano’s staccato attacks, or Sigrid’s nocturnal dances and lullabies. There is ample drama in the beautifully conveyed single night – for even the child Sigrid will one day no longer be sung to sleep.

In brieflive
12.10.2024

You Just Want to Disappear into These Cosmic Hordes of Sound

Christian Skjødt Hasselstrøm: »Myriader«
© Niels Nygaard
© Niels Nygaard

British Burial should have once said that in his music he strives to reproduce the experience of standing outside a club and feeling the rhythms on the asphalt. Distances are fascinating. The sounds in Christian Skjødt Hasselstrøm's work Myriads in an enormous water container at the Ole Rømer Observatory comes from afar. It is rain from space, cosmic radiation or high-energy particles, which are translated into sound via three detectors. They also flash with light in the pillared hall, and when you grope your way to them through the darkness, they puff softly and innocently. But when you walk around the 1,662 square meter room, the sounds still seem a little bit threatening – like artillery drums, sounds from modern wars or warning signals from ancient warlords... The sounds are always very far away and rumble at a low frequency in the room with a reverberation of 40 seconds. But they are just peaceful phenomena from distant galaxies, and they hardly want us any harm. They just make us feel so infinitely small. Hasselstrøm did the same to us in a former cereal silo in the city of Struer.

»You can get salt and minerals on your clothes. It can be washed off,« warned the guide, now ringing a bell. But what if you don't want to get rid of that sound at all and don't want to go home to Aarhus, but just want to stay deep underground for more than the given 15 minutes and disappear into the cosmic and very delicious hordes of sound? Distances are fascinating, and Myriads is better – more enriching – than any club in Aarhus’ Latin Quarter.

In brieflive
09.09.2024

Every Ending Is Also a New Beginning

Aarhus Symfoniorkester, Allan Gravgaard Madsen and Morten Riis: »Away« 
© Alexis Rodríguez Cancino
© Alexis Rodríguez Cancino

Allan Gravgaard Madsen’s and Morten Riis’s Away is a »mixed media« orchestral work. The physical orchestra is supplemented by sound and video recordings from the basement of Aarhus Theatre (woodwind quintet), Aarhus Cathedral (brass quintet), and Marselisborghallen (string orchestra). All of these locations have, at various points over the past 90 years, housed the Aarhus Symphony Orchestra.

Away opens with the final two chords of the overture to Rossini’s William Tell (1829), which are explored throughout the orchestra. Gradually, musicians leave the ensemble, only to reappear later in smaller constellations in recordings from the aforementioned locations. Through technology, the orchestra plays across time and space in a highly successful manner.

The work explores stasis and movement, with air as a central device: the wind players often blow into their instruments without producing tones, while the string players imitate the sound of wind using plastic bags. For me, Away has three highlights. Trumpets and percussion play phrases that turn out to anticipate a video of a flutist walking through the city. The trumpets mimic the sound of a truck – »beep-bop-beep-bop« – and the percussion becomes the flutist’s stilettos. Musique concrète turned on its head! At one point, half of the string players are seen sitting in a circle, playing intensely dissonant chords, only to kill them again – the physical shock activated my ears. The third highlight comes when the entire orchestra plays together again while all three projections are running simultaneously. Here, the work can truly begin, and one clearly senses the energy rising in the room. But – unfortunately – as soon as this climax is reached, the intensity drops again.

At just under 45 minutes, Away is, unfortunately, slightly too long and static for my taste. The effect of the aforementioned ruptures might not have been as strong in a shorter format, but I would have wished for just a bit more of the intensity the work so clearly was capable of delivering. I was left with a somewhat flat feeling. The piece also ended so quietly that several people were unsure whether it had actually finished and whether we could applaud.

In brieflive
31.08.2024

Fear and Heavy Curtains in Aarhus

Aarhus Festuge: Hotel Pro Forma: »Flammenwerfer«
Blixa Bargeld. © Emma Larsson
Blixa Bargeld. © Emma Larsson

»All sounds are loud,« we hear in Flammenwerfer – Hotel Pro Forma’s account of the Swedish painter Carl Fredrik Hill (1849–1911). Everything in this universe is transparent and layered. The orange hue in Hill’s art, flickering across the stage, crackles with both a beautifully golden noise and a psychedelic quality reminiscent of 1970s ceramics. In a central scene, Blixa Bargeld half-screams into a microphone and receives looped screams hurled back into his head. The patchwork of sound also includes five vocalists from IKI and selected pieces – the only music here that comes close to pop – by Nils Frahm.

The dark circles under the eyes are constantly pronounced. As are the letters that signal a new chapter, the next dive into the mind – for instance the section titled »Paranoia«. Here, IKI expands Einstürzende Neubauten’s »Halber Mensch« into five voices, allowing the hallucinations and anxiety to grow to full human scale. Yes, the sound was loud and numbing in itself. But it is largely thanks to IKI that we feel the extremes, the brain disease, and Hill’s experience of a »misarranged world«. They sang: »Heavy curtains drawn over the mind. A thick deadening cloud that blocks the use of senses.« And that is how it sounded. Cold. Like the saddest Instagram filter imaginable – with sound.

Unfortunately, Blixa Bargeld is used too sparingly in Flammenwerfer, which is not exactly a masterpiece from Hotel Pro Forma. Still, the gala audience sat very still in very soft seats and saw both a giraffe and a former queen on the same evening. The rest of Aarhus Festuge can only be more cheerful.

© Roberto Bordiga

»Music for me is bumping, rubbing, colliding, sliding and sculpting... in space-time. AKA the gift that keeps giving <3 .«  

Greta Eacott is a critically acclaimed British/Swedish composer based in Copenhagen, Denmark. She is primarily known for her boundary pushing experimental percussion works and her »sans-disciplinary« approach to music composition; which incorporates spatial aesthetics, design theory and physical movements as integral elements in the musical compositions. This manifests in a unique and modern musical aesthetic which is both playful and refined, agitating and welcoming, sensual and synthetic. Since 2014 she has been running the DIY record label One Take Records.