© Ultima
© Ultima

Thorbjørn Tønder Hansen has died. With Thorbjørn’s passing, the art music community has lost one of the Nordic region’s most significant producers, curators and cultural leaders.

For more than two decades, Thorbjørn worked at the intersection of contemporary music, sound art, festival management and Danish-Norwegian cultural cooperation. From 2000 to 2006, Thorbjørn was manager of the Norwegian Cikada Ensemble. In 2009, he became director of Art Music Denmark (then Snyk), a position he held until 2017, when he returned to the Norwegian cultural scene as director of the Ultima Festival. In the final years of his life, Thorbjørn served as a board member of the Foundation for Danish-Norwegian Cooperation.

Thorbjørn was a well-liked and visionary cultural leader who left an indelible mark on the music scene. I, like many other Danish artists, probably remember Thorbjørn best for his inspiring and courageous projects, such as the G((o))ng Tomorrow Festival (formerly Wundergrund). Thorbjørn was never afraid to give young and emerging artists a chance to perform, and I do not think it is an exaggeration to say that, for this reason alone, Thorbjørn had an impact on an entire generation of Danish artists.

I was still a young composition student when I first met Thorbjørn. It must have been around 2008. At the time, Thorbjørn was a project manager at Art Music Denmark, which was in the midst of developing G((o))ng Tomorrow. A festival that mixed genres and crossed artistic communities, Thorbjørn explained – a radical concept in Denmark at the time. The next thing I knew, I was standing on the G((o))ng stage at Råhuset with a group of wild young artists – musicians and composers, from both classical and rhythmic traditions, with vastly different artistic expressions and working methods. The concert that followed was hardly an artistic revelation, but the conversations, friendships and nights at the bar with a group of artists I would otherwise never have encountered opened my eyes to an entirely new way of collaborating – both artistically and in terms of cultural production.

Over the years, Thorbjørn developed many international friendships with artists and institutions from near and far. Thorbjørn and G((o))ng Tomorrow introduced countless exciting artists to Denmark while also opening new doors abroad for Danish artists. For many years, Thorbjørn was almost synonymous with Danish art music abroad and an exceptionally important link between artists, venues and festivals.

This is how I believe many people remember Thorbjørn: as an inspiring figure with forward-looking ideas, curious and courageous, and with a strong understanding of the value of international musical exchange.

The Danish music scene would not be the same without Thorbjørn. The same can be said of Art Music Denmark. Our small genre organisation has changed considerably since Thorbjørn was its director. Nevertheless, I am proud of the organisation I myself took over, and where the fundamental values from that time are still very much alive. An organisation that works to create new opportunities for artists. An organisation with a strong international network and a focus on international musical exchange. I do not believe this would have been possible without Thorbjørn’s immense and tireless groundwork.

Thorbjørn Tønder Hansen has died. He will be deeply missed, not only by artists and the cultural community across the Nordic region, but also by his many friends and collaborators around the world. Thorbjørn created connections, ideas and visions that continue to shape today’s cultural landscape. I have no doubt that his impact on the cultural life of the Nordic region will live on.

My warmest thoughts go out to Thorbjørn’s family and loved ones at this difficult time.

May Thorbjørn’s memory be honoured.

Regin Petersen
Director, Art Music Denmark

in briefrelease
11.09

A Strange Instrument, a Familiar Sound

Mike Sheridan: «Touch«
© André Hansen
© André Hansen

There is something almost dogmatic about Mike Sheridan’s latest album, Touch. Everything leads back to the Cristal Baschet – a peculiar instrument from the 1950s in which sound is produced by running wet fingers over glass rods, setting metal resonators into vibration. No strings, no keys, just glass, water, skin and friction, slowly making the metal sing.

The Cristal Baschet is not merely an instrument on Touch. It is the album cover, the subject of the press photos, and almost the very argument for the album’s existence.

It recalls the material fetishism found in the American duo Matmos, whose music is often built around a single material or sound source: metal on Metallic Life Review (2025), plastic on Plastic Anniversary (2019), a washing machine on Ultimate Care II (2016). What is interesting about such constraints is that they ought to force the music somewhere it otherwise might not be able to go.

While listening to Touch, a question therefore begins to press itself forward: Which of these sounds could not have existed without a Cristal Baschet?

There are glassy tones that hang in the air and slowly change texture. Thin, cutting vibrations. Metallic surfaces that flutter, ripple, open and close. A constant sense of droning resonance; of something vibrating just on the other side of the audible.

Sheridan’s layering is meticulous. There is a precision to the mix, an almost surgical sense of the distance between the different textures. The best moments occur when the surface is disturbed: something that scratches at or short-circuits the otherwise tightly controlled resonance. On »BOW / GROUND«, for instance, deep bass pulses suddenly enter, creating a different physical quality – crackling, heavy, like something hitting the floor.

But Touch is first and foremost a well-produced ambient album. It moves through different degrees of the same state, changing nuance without ever truly changing its skin. That is not necessarily a weakness. There is something consistent, almost meditative, in Sheridan’s insistence. But the longer one remains in the same sonic state, the more one begins to miss what ought to be the Cristal Baschet’s particular possibility.

This is where the disappointment lies: in the gap between the instrument’s strangeness and the music’s conventional appearance. The sounds have been assimilated into a familiar ambient vocabulary, where the extraordinary instrument ends up producing something surprisingly familiar. You can hear that something unusual is happening at the source of the sound. But you cannot necessarily hear why it had to be this particular instrument. Had one not been told that a rare, almost otherworldly acoustic sculpture was standing in the room, one would hardly have guessed it.

© PR

»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.

© PR

»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.

© PR

»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.

© PR
© PR

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.