Skulle have sendt min dobbeltgænger
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.
Behind the Words
One of the most mysterious – and at times boundary-pushing – interviews ever captured on tape is Meatball Fulton’s 1967 interview with Pink Floyd’s Syd Barrett. Filled with broken sentences, incongruous word combinations, questions and answers that seem to bear no relation to one another, and pauses that feel endless, the interview pushes the limits of what can meaningfully be called communication at all. »Your impression of me… which you must have… would you care to tell me? And be like absolutely honest… Do you have one?« the interviewer asks at one point. »In words?« Barrett replies.
In Words is also the title of multidisciplinary artist Alexander Tillegreen’s debut album, whose closing composition samples a full seven minutes of the interview. It is not difficult to understand what Tillegreen hears in this peculiar exchange. For someone who, in his artistic explorations of psychoacoustics and phantom words, has consistently probed sound’s possibilities and limitations as a carrier of meaning, the interview must appear as a rather sensational example of the illusory nature of language.
None of this would, of course, be of any interest if the music were not as strong as it is: richly atmospheric, detailed, texturally varied, emotionally potent, and filled with pleasing, warm synth tones that recall 1970s German Kosmische Musik. The fact that a large part of the compositions originate in earlier installation works often leaves me with the strange feeling that there is a dimension or context I do not fully grasp – which, of course, is entirely in keeping with Tillegreen’s spirit.
Phil Battiekh (Basel, Switzerland) has been a Mahraganat DJ and producer for over a decade. He is one of the first to dedicate himself to Mahraganat outside of Egypt. In addition to his most popular Mahraganat mixes on Soundcloud (over 450K streams worldwide), he released the acclaimed Cairo Concepts compilation in 2019. Featuring DJ Plead, DJ Haram, Alaa Fifty, Nustaliga and others, Cairo Concepts contextualises the impact and developments of the Mahraganat scene and examines the way certain artists have appropriated Mahraganat for club scenarios.
Mahraganat (Egyptian Arabic: مهرجانات( , which literally means »festivals«, is a mix of Egyptian Shaabi, electronic dance music, rap and trap. It is characterized by percussion-heavy rhythms, massive bass and loads of autotune. Phil Battiekh is curating the SWANA night – a joint event by pantropical, turkis, and Volume Village, which takes place at the latter in Aarhus. Next to his own set, Phil will also have a role as Wezza Montaser's DJ.
»I like when it's impossible to tell at first if something is black or white, or country or blues, or whatever.«
Bill Frisell’s career as a guitarist and composer has spanned more than 40 years and many celebrated recordings. From Aaron Copeland and Charles Ives to Bob Dylan and Madonna. Born in Baltimore, Bill Frisell played clarinet throughout his childhood in Denver, Colorado. His interest in guitar began with his exposure to pop music on the radio.
»Music has been a healing balm for me.«
John William Grant is an American singer, musician, and songwriter holding both American and Icelandic citizenship. He first came to prominence as a co-founder, lead vocalist, pianist, and primary songwriter of the alternative rock band The Czars. After releasing six albums between 1994 and 2006, the band disbanded, and Grant withdrew from music for four years before embarking on a solo career.
He returned in April 2010 with a critically acclaimed debut album recorded in collaboration with Midlake. Queen of Denmark was named Album of the Year 2010 by Mojo magazine and was also selected as one of the ten best albums of 2010 by The Guardian’s music critics and writers.
»In his music, composer Allan Gravgaard Madsen tries to create a better version of himself.«
Allan Gravgaard Madsen is a Danish composer based in Copenhagen. His most recent works include Träume nicht and Nachtmusik. He tries to create a better version of himself in his music – where his personality tends to be restless, chatty and has an active inner life, his music is controlled, simple and merciless in its expression. He is the recipient of the Carl Nielsen & Anne Marie Carl-Nielsens Hæderspris 2022.