in brief
19.09.2021

Skulle have sendt min dobbeltgænger

Frederiksberg Festspil: »Dobbeltgænger 1« + »Centalog«
© Reinhard Wilting
© Reinhard Wilting

Ideen fejlede ingenting: lige at komme ud og høre et par nye strygekvartetter. Det havde været så længe siden! Selveste Danish String Quartet med nyt fra næsten lige så selveste Bent Sørensen. Og et megaværk fra altid alt for uberømmede Niels Rønsholdt. Det burde ikke kunne gå galt.

Men hvad havde dog den fabelagtige Sørensen rodet sig ud i? Efter tre kvarters opvisning med Schuberts sprudlende, glødende, men trods alt ubønhørligt lange Kvartet i G-dur satte DSQ gang i Sørensens Doppelgänger. Som altså viste sig at være det sidste, man orkede i øjeblikket: en halv times remix af Schuberts værk! I nye klæder, natürlich, men forvandlingerne havde karakter af fikse idéer, der gjorde Sørensen mere menneskelig, end jeg huskede ham fra pragtværket Second Symphony.

Hvad der virkede elegant i symfonien – idéer, der cirklede spøgelsesagtigt rundt i orkestret – blev forsøgt genanvendt fra start i kvartetten. En simpel durakkord blev sendt på mikrotonal omgang mellem musikerne, så det til sidst mindede om forvrængninger i et spejlkabinet. Manøvren havde øvelsespræg, koketteri var indtrykket.

Derpå fulgte buer, der faldt ned på strengene som en hård opbremsning. Tyve minutter senere var figuren tilbage, men nu vendt om til accelerationer. Et forsøg på at fremvise sammenhæng i et værk, der ellers virkede unødigt rodet og sprang fra koncept til koncept? Lidt glidninger på strengene; dæmpning for at skabe en sprød cembaloklang; en lang, sfærisk passage; tilbagevenden til Schubert og tonika. Den gode Sørensen var blevet sin egen dobbeltgænger i processen, halsende efter forlægget. Jeg tillod mig et frederiksbergsk »åh!«.

Iført nye forventninger troppede jeg op til Rønsholdts 100-satsede Centalog to dage senere. Milde skaber, dette var endnu værre! Bag heltemodige Taïga Quartet tikkede et antikt vægur ufortrødent i samfulde 75 minutter. En fornemmelse af eksamenslæsning hang over os. Nøgternt præsenterede Rønsholdt selv de kommende satser hvert tiende minut: »10 left, 11 left, 12 left« eller »40 right, 41 right« og, koket, »13 left, missing item, 15 left«. Handlede det om læseretningen i noden, om strøgets bevægelse? Klart stod det aldrig, men tænk, om man blev hørt i lektien senere.

Fra Taïga lød febrilske fragmenter med aleatoriske linjer og abrupt dynamik; store følelser var spærret inde. Det forekom fortænkt, uvedkommende. Og med uvanlig distance mellem koncept og toner: Kun to gange undervejs spillede de kliniske opremsninger en smule med i musikken, da musikerne udbrød et bestemt »left!« her, et »right!« der. Hvor var Rønsholdts velkendte performative overskud? Mystisk. Fra væggen lød det blot: Tik-tak, tik-tak.

© Mads Smidstrup, Aros

»Music for me is medicine, comfort and a kick in the ass. Community, joy, a vent. Poetic political compass. And over the years, music has also become a kind of life chapter, linked to specific places, times and people.«

Marie Arleth Skov is a Danish art historian who has lived in Berlin since 1999. She works at the intersection of art, sexuality and music, with a primary historical focus on surrealism and the punk movement in the 1970s and 1980s. Her book Punk Art History was published by Intellect Books (UK) in 2023. Most recently, she has curated the exhibition UNRULY. The Body in Punk, which can be seen at Aros Kunstmuseum in Aarhus in the autumn of 2026. The catalogue for the exhibition is published by Marrow Press.

© Guannan Kang
© Guannan Kang

自由即兴创作比性爱更好! – »Free improvisation is better than sex.« According to drummer Kresten Osgood, the saying is attributed to Confucius. Whether the ancient Chinese philosopher ever uttered those words is doubtful. But the quote perfectly captures the spirit of one of the most unusual events at this year's Copenhagen Jazz Festival.

From 7–11 July, pianist Søren Kjærgaard and drummer Kresten Osgood will take over CC Taste on Amagerbrogade, performing daily from 2–4 pm among diners, dim sum and steaming hot pots.

in briefrelease
19.06

When the Machine Starts Singing

Soli City: »Poetics of a New Estate«
© Clement Mogensen
© Clement Mogensen

With Soli City, the boundary between the organic and the synthetic is almost impossible to discern. What first appears to be an ordinary piano suddenly slips into a dizzying glissando. Soli City resembles a cyborg – half cello, half computer – fusing strings and voices into a seamless digital synthesis. The result is a science-fiction dream interrupted by surreal monologues and abruptly punctuated by the shrill click of a camera shutter.

That percussive camera-flash motif runs throughout both PARADOXE (2024) and the new album Poetics of a New Estate. Here, Harald Bjørn, the composer behind Soli City, further develops the sonic language introduced on its predecessor. Whereas PARADOXE staged the encounter between acoustic and digital sounds as an explicit confrontation, the two worlds now feel far more deeply integrated. Even the album's abrupt shifts seem entirely natural, as on »Rooms & Walls«, where a slurred vocoder and delicate string textures give way to an insistent drum groove.

Soli City's music embodies a distinctive form of self-reflection. As acoustic sounds bend, fracture and are interrupted by those recurring electronic flashes, we are reminded of Bjørn's remarkable ability to compose genuinely innovative music. Just as the most visionary science fiction remains rooted in the realities of its own time, every musical breakthrough carries echoes of the past. Soli City embraces these nostalgic resonances only to twist them into unfamiliar shapes.

With deceptively simple means, Poetics of a New Estate dissolves the boundary between nostalgia and contemporaneity. Like a true cyborg, Soli City reveals the divide between the digital and the acoustic to be less a fundamental opposition than an oddly arbitrary construction.

© Laura Cecilie Krogtoft

»Music, for us, is a fusion of different consciousnesses into a single shared focal point.«

The band Selvhenter was founded in 2010 by trombonist Maria Bertel, saxophonist Sonja LaBianca, violinist Maria Diekmann, and drummers Jaleh Negari and Anja Jacobsen. In 2017, Maria Diekmann left the group, and Selvhenter continued as a quartet.

Selvhenter’s sound is driven by a deep fascination with sonic textures, rhythmic displacements and polyrhythms, acoustic and electronic melodies, hard-hitting compositional choices, improvised beauty, and a sheer joy of creating and performing music. Selvhenter has played concerts both in Denmark and internationally. The group is also the nucleus of the artist collective Eget Værelse, which houses the members’ solo projects as well as collaborations such as Valby Vokalgruppe, SOLW, Nina Garcia & Maria Bertel, and G.E.K.

© PR

»Music for me remembers.«

Håkon Guttormsen is a Norwegian composer and trumpeter living in Copenhagen. He is educated at the Royal Danish Academy of Music and the Royal Academy of Rhythmic Music. He primarily composes scores for ensembles as well as music drama and opera. He is currently working on a work for solo violin and electronics for ILK Music’s concert series during CPH Jazz 2026 and on his first symphonic work, which will premiere at the academy in 2027. He is a member of nyMusik’s composer group in Norway and a board member of UNM Denmark.