in brief

16.03.2021

Doing it anyway

Mikkel Schou: Debut Concert I-II

Mikkel Schou. © The Royal Danish Academy of Music

Mikkel Schou at his Debut Concert. © The Royal Danish Academy of Music

Schou is a powerhouse – unafraid to try new things, push himself in new directions, and pull us all along with him. We sorely need this energy, and we are lucky to have Schou and his do-it-anyway attitude.

But sometimes do-it-anyway needs tempering a little. Schou spoke about how he prepared this concert without guidance from his teachers. Brave, but I missed a guiding hand, a sharper focus. Both concerts were too long, and not always coherent. I sensed an artist who has defined himself by who he isn’t, but not yet by who he is.

Still, there were glimpses of a unique personality. Stefan Prins’ Generation Kill was an odd choice to start a debut concert with – Schou’s back was facing the audience, and the piece did little to highlight his skills as a performer (I also hated the piece, but that’s a personal matter). So I’m going to pretend that the concert started with Johannes Kreidler’s Guitar Piece – a vile little video-nasty to which Schou fully committed. A perfect manifesto – the absolute nerve of presenting two years of soloist class education by eating your guitar. I wish we’d had more of this playfulness.

But the energy sagged with a disparate selection of pieces that seemed more like a composer class concert than a presentation of a fresh artistic profile. Props to Schou for this – using your debut concert to focus on younger composers is bold, and should be celebrated. I just wish we’d had more Schou. My highlight was Emil Vijgen’s Photobooth Study, where Schou got to engage with his instrument in a different way, let loose a little, and be a soloist.

Schou may present himself as a force of nature, and he is, but there is an air of sensitivity (reticence, even) to his presence that does not always match up with the pieces being performed. Rob Durnin’s What, de facto could have benefitted from some more ‘fuck you’ attitude – the performance was oddly shy.

The late-night concert’s improvisation was fun: it’s always a joy to see Marcela Lucatelli and Henrik Olsson improvise (although Schou was the clear third wheel). However, the concert was overlong, and did not add much to Schou’s profile. I get that he wanted to show more sides of himself, but, again, it came at the expense of focus. Replacing Esben Nordborg Møller’s bloated Drones with Sarah Nemtsov’s lounge-jazz tinged Seven Colours from earlier would both shorten the concerts and sharpen the intention.

But these things are matters of polish. Schou is a rare and exceptional artist, and deserves accolades for his work and for these concerts. With more confidence and time to refine his vision, there is no doubt that Schou will be an essential fixture on the new music scene for years to come.

in brieflive

06.03

Labour of Birth

Katinka Fogh Vindelev, Sankt Annæ Pigekor, Kind of Opera et al.: »Elegier over jorden«

Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek, 5.03

Louise Steiwer

»This pain is not only yours,« chants a choir standing in a circle around the woman in labour. »This pain is not only yours,« comes the enveloping echo from the rest of the choir, positioned along the walls of the ceremonial hall, forming a circle around the audience and inscribing us into the labour of female fertility.

Elegier over Jorden (Elegies over the Earth) is based on Sofie Isager Ahl’s reworking of the myth of Persephone, daughter of the goddess of agriculture and queen of the underworld. The Greek myth is one of those that explains the barrenness of winter by Persephone’s descent into the underworld, but in this reinterpretation she returns to earth to give birth. We follow her labour over nine months while members of the choir work in the fields, struggling for crops under pressure from the current climate collapse. Here, the regeneration of nature is not a matter for higher powers but a struggle that begins in the body and in the soil – much like that of the woman giving birth.

The ecofeminist interconnectedness of the female body and nature has been a hot topic for several years now, and I am unsure what Elegies over the Earth adds to it. My hesitation stems mainly from the harsh acoustics of the ceremonial hall at Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek which, combined with Marie Topp’s choreography – often positioning singers with their backs turned to parts of the audience – makes it difficult to hear Ahl’s words.

When Elegies over the Earth works best, it is in the dialogue and timing between the choir, the soprano and composer Katinka Fogh Vindelev in the role of the labouring Persephone, and the minimal ensemble of two violins and a cello. When the voices of Sankt Annæ Girls’ Choir curl around the cello’s dark timbre, and when the primordial woman Persephone’s lament is allowed to hang in the room for a moment before the choir resumes, the performance touches on something real. Yet the experience never quite settles in the body, and the painful struggle of birth – despite the choir’s insistent chanting – never truly becomes mine.

Performances on 5, 7 and 8 March

English translation: Andreo Michaelo Mielczarek

playlist

04.03

My name is Jesper Kjeldsen – would you like to see my playlist?

»For me, music is... I was about to say everything, but that's still an exaggeration. I'm a sensitive person, and therefore all art - but especially music - affects me in different ways. Music has both a therapeutic and an artistic meaning for me. Music affects my mood and gives me energy. It can also put me in a certain state where I see things differently and reflect in a different way than I would otherwise. I always have headphones in when I'm alone, I sleep to music, I work to music. The first thing I did as a new councilor was to set up my father-in-law's old B&O system in the councilor's office. It plays every day, and I very rarely close the door.«

Jesper Kjeldsen is councilor for Culture and Citizen Service in Aarhus and a member of the city council for the Social Democrats. He graduated from Kaospiloterne and has a background as an entrepreneur, including with the company Postevand. Before his political career, he worked creatively with culture and music – he has released music, been a DJ and taught as a dance teacher. Jesper Kjeldsen has lived and worked in Greenland for a long period of time, which has influenced his view of community, culture, climate and society.

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My name is Matias Vestergård – would you like to see my playlist?

»Music for me is translation. Music for me is a musical score that can be released into sound in a thousand ways, depending on who picks up the instrument. Music for me is the attempt to embody the idea of sound in lines and dots and floor plans. Music for me is both a sought-after sound that does not ring, and a sought-after sound that does. Music for me is a song game, a parallel universe with its own temporality and its own rules.«

Matias Vestergård is a trained composer and pianist from the Royal Danish Academy of Music in Copenhagen. Since his debut in 2022, he has particularly distinguished himself with music-dramatic works – his first opera Murder on the Titanic will be performed for the third time this year, and his second opera Lisbon Floor won the award for Opera of the Year at the 2023 Reumert. He is currently working on orchestral works, a piano concerto and choral music, but dreams of writing more operas.

playlist

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My name is Hannah Schneider – would you like to see my playlist?

»Music for me is a way to stay curious. It can feel completely overwhelming to hear some music you don't know, or revisit something you haven't heard in a long time. Music makes my heart race, it makes me cry, laugh, and gesticulate wildly. It's a way to understand myself at different times in my life, and a way to create bonds with others around me.«

Hannah Schneider creates cinematic alternative pop with electronic soundscapes and strong melodies. She has released several critically acclaimed albums, toured Europe and the US, and has established herself as one of the country's most original voices. Her music has been used in film, television, and on major Scandinavian theater stages, and in recent years she has also composed commissioned works for leading museums and cultural institutions.

On her new album In This Room (February 27, 2026), she chooses – in an era marked by artificial intelligence – to insist on presence, intuition, and craftsmanship as driving forces. The album was written and recorded during a two-month residency at Thorvaldsens Museum.

playlist

25.02

My name is Louise Beck – would you like to see my playlist?

»I listen to music at all hours of the day when I’m at home – surrounded by family – or when I’m working and travelling. My playlist changes every day. It reflects my state of mind here and now, and the ideas, memories, joys and sorrows that currently occupy me. The last piece, Salve Regina, was only added late this evening, after I experienced Poulenc’s magnificent opera Dialogues des Carmélites at the Royal Danish Opera.«

Louise Beck is a scenographer, stage director and artistic director of OPE-N – and from the 2027 season, artistic director of Copenhagen Opera Festival. For nearly three decades, she has developed opera as a living and contemporary art form at the intersection of the established opera field and the independent music-theatre scene. She has created a number of critically acclaimed and award-nominated works, including Den Sidste Olie and LOL – Laughing Out Lonely, and, together with Niels Rønsholdt, stands behind the opera trilogy Den Stærkes Ret – Den Svages Pligt, whose second part will be presented at the University Library of Copenhagen during the 2026 festival.