© Thor Brødreskift
© Thor Brødreskift
The 2026 Nordic Council Music Prize goes to Norwegian composers Kristine Tjøgersen and Benedicte Maurseth for Elja, a suite for the Kronos Quartet and Hardanger fiddle.
 
Rationale

Elja is an innovative and ambitious work that unites folk tradition, contemporary music, and a strong ecological perspective within a single, fully realised artistic vision. Drawing on the open landscapes of Hardangervidda, the composers create a rich and coherent sonic world in which birds, animals, weather, and vast distances emerge as musical movements and states of being. In it, nature appears not as a subject to be depicted, but as a fragile ecosystem in which everything is connected – and the music carries a quiet awareness of what is at risk of being lost.

The piece was written for a purpose-built family of instruments – Hardanger fiddles, Hardanger viola, and Hardanger cello, crafted by luthier Ottar Kåsa – with Maurseth as soloist. Their sympathetic strings, alternative tunings, and rich overtones open an immersive space in which the tonal heritage of the Hardanger fiddle tradition meets new musical landscapes. The meeting between Maurseth’s grounding in a living, oral tradition and Tjøgersen’s precise and exploratory approach to sound gives rise to a poetic, richly detailed, and sonically daring expression. 

Elja demonstrates how collaboration between different artistic practices can expand the possibilities of the instrument, the tradition, and contemporary music itself. Through its artistic originality, its profound engagement with nature, and its international impact, the work stands out as a significant contribution to the music of our time – a work that invites deep listening and reflection on humanity’s place within the wider ecological community. 

Commissioned by Kronos Quartet and Carnegie Hall, the work had its world premiere in New York in March 2025, marking an international breakthrough for two of the most distinctive voices in Norwegian music. 

Source: Nordic Co-operation

in briefrelease
24.10

JASSS Tears the Cellophane Off Electronic Music

JASSS: »Eager Buyers«
© PR
© PR

The sound of Eager Buyers is as intense as crackling cellophane – and just as revealing. It’s as if all musical labels have been stripped away, leaving behind a raw, unfiltered sonic world where genres dissolve and everything becomes possible. The Berlin-based Spanish producer JASSS forges her sound in a punkish alloy of electronic music, industrial, EDM, and rock-inspired guitar riffs.

Her third album is a rebellion against conformity and expectation. To label JASSS is nearly impossible – unless the label is cool. In the complex rhythmic compositions, where traces of bitcrush are balanced by melancholic harmonies and subtle hints of medieval-core on the track »Sand Wrists«, we enter a universe that is at once nostalgic and adventurous – and at the same time simmering with the energy of Berlin’s nightlife.

Eager Buyers is magnetic – even for listeners who don’t normally inhabit the electronic realm. The album carries a clear narrative, driven by a dark, almost theatrical energy. JASSS turns toward a world she perceives as »malnourishing« – as she phrases it through song titles like »Hollow« and »The Mob Expects Malnutrition«. Yet the melodrama has a tinge of irony: there’s something disarmingly sarcastic about it all, as if Eager Buyers is ultimately about the disillusioned modern human.

JASSS rattles the cellophane of the musical packaging we usually call genres, reminding us that music, too, is a product to be sold and bought. Eager Buyers is an album that refuses to be wrapped up – and precisely for that reason, it’s worth buying.

English translation: Andreo Michaelo Mielczarek

»Music, to me, is true luxury and has always been an opening into a language without constricting categories, with room for both intimacy and impact. I don’t have a single tone in life, but I wish I did. When I work, music is a warm room I can barricade myself in, an ally that keeps me on track—not least in a time as destructive as the one we are in now. It can be a connection to difficult emotions, but also an excuse for a kitchen dance that makes me forget the world and myself. I actually constantly long for a new soundtrack (and more dancing), but if I’m completely honest, I’m also quite happy to take off the headphones and listen—not least to the non-human world’s differently calming compositions: all the other voices that we must include in the choir if there is to be human song and music in the future.«

C.Y. Frostholm (b. 1963) is a writer and visual artist who has published poetry and prose since 1985 and worked visually since 1991, including with photography, digital, and visual poetry. Together with composer Hans Sydow, he released the album Mellem stationerne back in 2000. Earlier this year, he took part in the exhibition Hybris! at Galleri Image in Aarhus, based on his latest book, Til den ven jeg aldrig har kendt (2023).

in brieflive
18.10.2025

One Tone, Eight Breaths, and the Sound of Waiting

Elisa Kragerup, Louise Alenius, Vokalensemblet ÆTLA and others: »The Emperor of Portugalia«
© PR
© PR

Only one actor appears on stage in The Emperor of Portugalia – surrounded by eight singers. In Elisa Kragerup’s tightly choreographed staging, Louise Alenius’ a cappella composition becomes a physical experience where breath and movement merge into one. The acoustic soundscape interacts eerily quietly with the deafening, mechanical noises that arise when, for instance, beams of light are raised and lowered on stage. It feels as if the relentlessness of existence here briefly finds a sonic expression that captures Selma Lagerlöf’s intentions.

The sparse – or rather ascetic – soundscape, together with the humble peasant costumes, reflects the harsh, monotonous life of a Swedish village before the world turned modern. And the plot? A poor farmer worships his daughter, but when she leaves for Stockholm as a young woman and never returns, his years of yearning drive him, in a Don Quixote-like fashion, to believe himself emperor of the imaginary land of Portugalia, with his daughter naturally imagined as its ruler. The father’s longing borders on madness, while the daughter’s neglect or thoughtlessness ultimately turns against her: in a Godot-like manner, he waits and waits for her – just as she, after his drowning, waits for him, unable to find his body.

The piece is carried by an almost unbroken drone in the choir (produced through collective breathing) – a single sustained tone that, as an artistic device, illustrates how music in theatre can be so minimal that sound itself becomes the message, and the absence of a musical narrative becomes the point. »One tone played beautifully is enough,« Arvo Pärt once said. Except that here, the tone is sung – and in this work, his statement is affirmed in the most radical way: a maximal expression achieved through minimal means, realised with striking precision by Vokalensemblet ÆTLA.

English translation: Andreo Michaelo Mielczarek

in briefrelease
16.10.2025

A Microphone In the Nervous System

IKI: »BODY«
© Julie Montauk
© Julie Montauk

It sounds as if someone has placed a microphone directly inside the nervous system’s electrical impulses. The Nordic electroacoustic vocal ensemble IKI explores the boundaries between body and technology on their fifth, self-produced album BODY, where the five singers’ bodies merge into one large, organic rhythm box.

The tracks change form as the body breathes, dances, awakens, runs, wanders – in the imperative mood. The harmonically unison ripple of »Float« is countered by flickering modem-like sounds in »Regenerate«. Everything is framed by the recurring theme »Circuit«, which ultimately gathers the fragments into a single linguistic statement: »Are you gone when your body is not breathing?«

BODY demands concentration. IKI claims that all sounds on the album are created with the voice – a counterpoint to the electrically manipulated, a kind of reversed version of synthesizer sounds that imitate the human voice. It’s an incomprehensible mystery one keeps listening for: how can the voice produce the accordion-like sound on »Breath«, panned all the way to the left and slowly taking over the entire soundscape? Of course, it can’t do so on its own. The recording itself is an electronic mediation. The technological tools act as a microscope for vocal expression. It’s powerful because it asks about the transitions between human and machine, between life and afterlife. Yet the premise holds a paradox that never fully resolves.

English translation: Andreo Michaelo Mielczarek

Bjarke Niemann. © Frederik Barasinski

»Music is everything that can only be described far more poorly with words.«

Bjarke Niemann is the lead singer, songwriter, and producer of the Danish band Spleen United. The group broke through with Godspeed Into The Mainstream in 2005 and has performed at, among other places, Roskilde Festival and the Copenhagen Opera House. Bjarke Niemann has also composed and developed music for TV and video games – including the international game series Hitman – and has produced albums with artists such as Soleima, Statisk, Afskum, and Hugorm.