© 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
12.03

Do Whales Actually Want to Listen to Us?

Valentin Paoli: »The Musician and The Whale / La Baleine et le Musicien«
© PR
© PR

The French electronic musician Rone finds it difficult to express emotions verbally. In Valentin Paoli’s rather touching documentary The Musician and The Whale, he reflects on music’s ability to create connections and convey moods to an audience – whether human or interspecies.

One day, Rone receives a video from a sailor who is playing his music at sea. Whales gather around the boat, seemingly drawn to the sounds, and this becomes the starting point for an exploration of whether the musician might be able to communicate with the animals through sound. Rone seeks out an expert in whale vocalizations, who points to certain high-pitched synth elements in his EDM compositions that resemble whale song. He then has a girls’ choir record the whale sounds with human voices and travels to Réunion to play the sounds back to the whales.

At first, the attempt proves futile: the whales appear indifferent to the girls’ choir. Quoting Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Rone realizes that if one wishes to move others, one must begin with what moves oneself. It is a Disney-like insight in a slightly sentimental film that speaks to the human desire to communicate with animals.

But are we actually sure that animals want to communicate with us? As the film’s central figure, Rone briefly reflects on a few ethical questions concerning animals, yet his infectious enthusiasm for the sounds of whales prevents him from asking the most fundamental questions about the relationship between humans and animals. Instead, we get a portrait of the musician that is almost as polished and warm-hearted as his music. The whale, wisely, remains beneath the surface of the sea.

»The Musician and The Whale« / »La Baleine et le Musicien« (83 min.)
Valentin Paoli (FR), 2026. Screening at CPH:DOX, March 11, 12 and 20

© Cecilie Frost

»Music is for me a silent but powerful weapon. It is crucial for preserving identity and culture. Throughout history, dominant powers have often tried to suppress people by wiping out their language, their traditions and their art. But in places where this failed, it was precisely the survival of art that preserved the soul and pride of the people.« 

Anastasia is a Danish indie artist with glamour in her eyes and punk in her blood. Together with her all-female band, she creates a sound universe carried by raw energy, bittersweet rock melodies and cheeky, flirtatious lyrics about love, loss and everything chaotic in between. She debuted in 2022 with a series of charity concerts in support of Ukraine and has since taken over stages across the country – from Debutfest in Copenhagen to SPOT Festival in Aarhus. All songs are written and produced by Anastasia herself and take their final form in a close and intense interaction with the band, where personal expression meets collective power.

 
 
 
in briefrelease
09.03

Everything a Snare Drum Can Do

Ryan Scott: »21th-Century Canadian Snare Drum«
© PR
© PR

Let’s be honest: when you think of composed music for solo instruments, the snare drum is probably not the first thing that comes to mind. It may be the noisiest member of the percussion family and has been setting the volume level in everything from classical music to pop for decades. That’s why I pricked up my ears when the Canadian percussionist Ryan Scott announced an entire album of works for snare drum – written by 14 different composers. A full hour and a half of music, no less. And yes, that sounds like a lot for a record that mainly consists of a single drum. But there is definitely something to discover here.

The opening, Andrew Staniland's »ANTIGRAVITYDRUM«, blends free jazz with inspired use of percussive vibraphone, while Beka Shapps’ »Skinscape IV« sends the drum strokes through ring modulation and extensive sound processing, bringing us close to musique concrète. Christina Volpini’s »only ghost« slips into horror territory with march-drum-inspired bursts and ghostly use of the snare drum’s high register, while Amy Brandon’s »Time and Effort« almost becomes a demonstration of the instrument’s technical possibilities.

Fourteen works over ninety minutes is a substantial mouthful. The snare drum’s limited tonal vocabulary means that you occasionally lose focus, even after several listens, and the contrast between drum strokes and silence is repeated a little too often. That said, Ryan Scott and the composers get just about as much out of what is essentially a glorified marching drum as one could hope for. I was both entertained and intrigued along the way. As an experiment, the idea is strong – but in the long run also a bit too insistent for me to return to often. Still, one should not underestimate the versatility of a good old-fashioned snare drum.

English translation: Andreo Michaelo Mielczarek

 

in brieflive
09.03

Beauty in Decay

Thure Lindhardt, Ensemble Hermes, Sophie Haagen & Mikkel B. Grevsen: »Helvedesblomsterne«
© Anders Hede, Musikhuset
© Anders Hede, Musikhuset

We sat in slow decay for an evening in the vestibule of Hell. It was during an ambitious, multisensory interpretation of Charles Baudelaire’s poetry collection Les Fleurs du mal (1857) – Helvedesblomsterne (The Flowers of Evil). Director Anna Schulin-Zeuthen and composer Mikkel B. Grevsen brought together mezzo-soprano Sophie Haagen and actor Thure Lindhardt with the six string players of Ensemble Hermes, adding electronic music to the mix. This Frankenstein-like staging transported modernist poetry into 2026, where the motifs stretching between beauty and decay still – despite many scientific advances – remain a fundamental condition.

In Musikhuset Aarhus, the stage was decorated with lush and withered flowers as vanitas symbols. Lindhardt opened with a recitation that shattered the fourth wall: with both humour and intensity he addressed us directly in the audience – hypocrites and future corpses.

In contrast to the almost seamless sonic unity of Haagen’s dark voice, the string players’ sustained textures and the ghostly distortions of the electronics, Lindhardt’s reading appeared as a strange but necessary disturbance. He prowled about with a folder tucked under his arm like an awkward outsider – the poet as eternal observer.

For my part, I dutifully tried to follow the printed programme sheet, but soon gave up and instead – quite in the spirit of the work – allowed myself, hypocritically, to be intoxicated and seduced. Helvedesblomsterne succeeds as a bold and grand project. Yet the performance also balances a little too cautiously between harmonic beauty and the nineteenth-century uncanniness that in Baudelaire crawls with death all the way into the bones.

English translation: Andreo Michaelo Mielczarek

© Diana Aud

»For me, music is both the beat that gets me through my run, sets the mood for everyday life, but not least my personal soundtrack that evokes past events and moods throughout my life.« 

Lasse Andersson is the museum director of Kunsten Museum of Modern Art and Utzon Center, as well as the chairman of the board of Krabbesholm Højskole and the Packness Foundation. Before museums took up all his time, he wrote his PhD thesis The City and the Creative Entrepreneurs, co-founded the art and technology house Platform4, and was behind both the LasseVegas office and the technology project Nulkommafem. He has also headed the Urban Design department at Aalborg University. Today, he works purposefully to develop cultural institutions as modern spaces for learning: places where people meet and connect through aesthetic experiences that move, challenge, and open new perspectives on the society we share. For Lasse Andersson, art and architecture are not just mirrors of the world – they help shape it. With that ambition, he has curated exhibitions such as Fatamorgana – Utzon møder Jorn (2016) I Arkitektens Verden – Reiulf Ramstad (2019), Pierre Huyghe – Offspring (2022), Tal R & Mamma Andersson – omkring Hill (2023) og Michael Kvium – Knudepunkt (2025).