in brief

31.08.2021

Smukt vågner Agnes

Lil Lacy: »You are somehow connected«

Aarhus Festuge 2021: Lil Lacy: »You are somehow connected«, 28. august

Lil Lacy: »You are somehow connected«. © Martin Dam Kristensen

I August Strindbergs symbolmættede drama Et Drømmespil fra 1902 forlader gudedatteren Agnes sit himmelske hjem og tager bolig blandt menneskene. Da hun ved stykkets slutning vender tilbage, opsummerer hun sine jordiske lidelser således: »At være til; at mærke mit syn svækket af et øje, min hørelse sløvet af et øre, og min tanke, min luftige, lyse tanke fanget i fedtfletningers labyrinter.«

Disse fedtfletninger væver sig ligeledes ud og ind af komponisten Lil Lacys Strindberg-fortolkning, mens det luftige, det lyse repræsenteres af lette overtoner. I Lacys multimedieundersøgelse fremstår mennesker forbundet på tværs af udstrakte geografier og generationer. Det understøttes af et komplekst landskab af klassisk og elektronisk musik, lys, billeder, skrevne og talte ord.

Som hos Strindberg er det gudernes verden, der har rod i det konkrete. Lacy starter med noget så jordnært som lyden af en gulerod, der skrælles og gnaskes, mens tandsættets kværnende rytmer runger gennem kraniet. Herefter glider vi over i drømmen. Agnes synker videre, langt, langt ned til menneskene, mens tonerne fra et akkordeon, spillet kyndigt af solisten Bjarke Mogensen, bliver til lyden af en lunge i konstant bevægelse, et organ der langsomt udvider sig, trækker sig sammen og holder os fast i livet, mens vi sover videre. Strygerne understreger denne skubbende, trækkende bevægelse.

En række stemmer – tilhørende en sydafrikansk kunstner, forfatteren Suzanne Brøgger og andre – fylder salen. Nok er det »synd for menneskene« (jf. Strindberg), men hos Lacy er figurerne fulde af håb og drømme for fremtiden. Som mennesker ejer vi ikke guddommeligt overblik; vort syn er netop »svækket af et øje«, af den fysiske verden vi er kastet ned i. Samtidig er der skønhed at finde i »fedtfletningernes labyrinter«, i måden vi er bundet sammen på.

You are somehow connected slutter ligesom Et Drømmespil med en gigantisk krysantemum, der springer ud, mens Agnes vågner. Smukt, brusende og voldsomt. Andre steder i opsætningen svæver citater fra Strindbergs tekst over musikerne. Denne direkte forankring i den oprindelige dialog virker dog unødvendig. Lacys stykke kan sagtens stå selv.

31.03

Local Forces Behind New Electronic Festival in Aalborg

On May 29, the Aalborg-based collective Datahaven9000 takes over the venue Skråen, transforming its main hall into a concentrated one-day festival of electronic music. The event is part of the concert series Bystanders #3, where the stage is handed over to local scenes rather than the venue’s in-house programming.

in briefrelease

30.03

Inside the Belly of an Alien Sonic Organism

Ideologic Organ / La Becque Editions, 27.03

Nikola Nedeljkovic Gøttsche

Two of contemporary music’s most uncompromising material thinkers meet on Music for Intersecting Planes: the American organist Kali Malone and the French cellist Leila Bordreuil. Malone works with oversaturated blocks of sound and sonic mass as a sustained pressure, while Bordreuil seeks friction – her cello a recalcitrant organism that creaks and resists.

What they share is an ascetic attention to the specificity of their instruments. The organ and the cello are pushed to their outer limits, where recognizability dissolves and overtones emerge like hidden entities.

The title pieces, »Intersecting Planes I» and »II«, unfold as undulating ruptures of sound: animalistic, almost elephantine cries that surge forward and recede again. Only rarely can the sound be identified as organ or cello. (»Pilots in the Night« comes closest to a familiar balance between the organ’s gravity and the cello’s resistance.) Otherwise, the music moves within a field between the metallic and the electronic, as if the sound originates neither from strings nor pipes.

It is not mass that is being explored here, but rather a kind of hollowness: an airiness that is not light, but permeated by an indeterminate resonance – something ancient, almost ceremonial. The album holds something far more porous and open than Malone and Bordreuil’s earlier works. The sound appears as a concave form, bending inward, like an absence of material. The sonic landscape carries its own dissolution within it as an inherent delay – as if the music exists, first and foremost, as the erosion of something one thought one heard.

English translation: Andreo Michaelo Mielczarek

playlist

30.03

My name is Oscar O'Shea – would you like to see my playlist?

»Music, for me, is the rhythm, the pulse, and the energy of my life. It’s what drives me and can always energize me or colour my day in exactly the way I need. In a very busy, confusing, and chaotic life like the one I find myself in right now, music can be almost the only thing that slows my pace down, gives me access to actually feeling my emotions, and creates space for reflection. Music is history – it remembers moments and moods. It reflects cultures and can become the voice of a generation or an entire group that struggles to break through the mainstream or challenge the status quo. For me, music is one of the primary ways I can influence the society I’m part of – whether by supporting important art that we can see ourselves in, or by bringing large groups of people together around something meaningful and communal. Music, to me, is freedom. Freedom to dance without inhibition, to let the tears flow freely, and the freedom to play air drums at full speed on my yellow racing bike as I ride down Mejlgade.«

Oscar O’Shea is a graduate of the Kaospilot programme, with a focus on innovation in the cultural and music industries. Through SPOT Festival, he works as project manager for the international initiative Live Incubator and the hyper-local event cSPOT at Bowlinghallen. Oscar is a documentary filmmaker and will graduate this summer as part of the first cohort of documentary producers from the independent film school DOKTRIN.

He recently founded the independent Aarhus-based agency Okay Management, which works with artist management, booking, film production, and music releases for a wide range of artists. Through the agency, the venue Okay is opening in the new Stenbro district near Nørreport in Aarhus. The space will showcase Aarhus talent, with a focus on bringing together the city’s emerging cultural scene and building a sustainable music industry from the ground up through knowledge sharing, transparency, and collaboration across the underground and grassroots levels.

In recent years, he has worked as a booker and programme curator for Sydhavns Festival, Gemini Festival, and a wide range of other events and initiatives. His heart beats for DIY and indie culture—for independence and collaboration rather than competition. And although Oscar has lived in many different countries and worked around the world, he always returns to Aarhus—precisely because of the sense of community and the city’s DIY spirit.

in brieflive

28.03

Opera or Exam Preparation?

Mauro Patricelli, Signe Asmussen, Matias Seibæk, Anders Banke, Thommy Andersson, Jessica Lyall et al.: »Tarantula«

Thorvaldsens Museum, 27-28.03.26

Sofus Preisel

Tarantula is presented as a »documentary opera«, a genre created by Mauro Patricelli. The work takes its starting point in tarantism – the myth of the spider’s bite, which triggers madness and the ecstatic dance that heals – and intertwines it with A Doll’s House and Napoli by August Bournonville. The ambition is clear: to reflect female experiences of mania, oppression, and interpretation throughout history. The scenography reinforces the documentary approach. Five suspended screens display text, archival material, a dancer, and a professor character who didactically explains the work’s sources. At the same time, four musicians and the soprano Signe Asmussen stand in a row.

The music alternates between long, bare lines and repetitive, rhythmically complex figures clearly inspired by the tarantella. Yet this very complexity becomes a drawback: the reliance on click-track and sheet music lends a mechanical quality that clashes with the work’s purportedly demonic and physical energy. The main issue is the balance between explanation and interpretation. The professor figure constantly dictates the reading, undermining the work’s own critical ambitions – not least when it simultaneously critiques a »male lens«. The engagement with Ibsen also feels simplified, almost misread, functioning more as illustration than genuine interpretation.

The libretto – largely composed of historical sources and academic language – weighs heavily on the dramaturgy. When a letter about Ibsen’s knowledge of tarantism is elevated to a dramatic climax, it becomes difficult to grasp what is truly at stake. That the text is sung, projected, and handed out in libretto form only intensifies the sense of redundancy. In the end, one is left with the feeling of having attended a lecture rather than an opera. My final note before the curtain fell: Will this be on the test?

English translation: Andreo Michaelo Mielczarek

playlist

27.03

My name is Alice Ai – would you like to see my playlist?

»Music for me is a place to meet both oneself and others in emotions. It is freedom, community, individuality, language and expression.«

Danish artist Alice Ai combines emotional depth with electronic impact and a punk energy. Her sound moves in the field of tension between the vulnerable and the confrontational – between the human and the synthetic. This duality is embedded in her name: »Alice« refers to curiosity and adventure, and »Ai« points towards the artificial and technological. Together they form the foundation for a contrasting universe that permeates both her music and artistic persona. Alice Ai will play at this year’s Roskilde Festival.