»Who ever said that music is ‘just’ music? To me, it is anything but that: an urge to understand and explain it all. A piece of jewelry I wear every single day. A joy that can, at times, run deep. An ever-changing imprint of millions of stitches in my heart. A longing to disappear.«
Henrik Marstal is a musician, author, and music researcher. He holds a PhD in musicology, is a senior lecturer at the Rhythmic Music Conservatory, and frequently appears in the media as an expert source on music. His areas of interest include contemporary music, such as electronic music. This winter, he will release both a new album with the pop group ibens and a book about Else Marie Pade, published by the British publishing house Bloomsbury.
Rystet i Warszawa
Kvalmen blev uudholdelig inde i det tidligere klasseværelse. Nerve- og muskelsystemet satte langsomt ud. De tre døve performere i shorts og sorte hætter, der lænede sig op ad et bjerg af højttalere og forstærkere toppet med et trommesæt, lignede sårede soldater. Indhyllet i røg, svøbt i minimal-punket dystopia. Når en af dem satte hånden på strengene af en bas og dæmpede instrumentets kraft, rungede kun støj og snavs fra systemet skruet op til maksimum. Trioen blev ‘dirigeret’ af to performere via aftalte taktile signaler (berøringer). Bølgen af støj changerede (muterede?) minimalt, som når en serie af guitarister i en evighed gentager tonen E i Rhys Chatmans ikoniske værk Guitar Trio (1977).
Den fire timer lange performative installation på Opera for the Deaf-minifestivalen – del af den chikke festival for klassisk musik, Warszawa Efterår – var lige så meget en syret, virtuost tågetalende skulptur. Også omgivelserne blev et instrument: Wc-kummerne i den anden ende af bygningen vibrerede. Døve mennesker, sagde programmet, er de eneste, der har deres eget sprog, helt anderledes end hørelsens sprog, baseret på forskellige kulturelle koder. I den tidligere polske folkeskole lærte jeg noget om den øredøvende skønhed ved at gå kold i en tsunami af bulder og hvid røg – med bævende ører først.
»For me, music is at its best when it appeals to both the head and the heart. I love music that plays with language and understands how words create images, while also possessing its own unique sonic quality and mood. It’s an added bonus if the music energizes me during a run, makes me dance in the kitchen, or makes me laugh. Or cry. Music can be like a chocolate-coated marshmallow treat with a surprise inside.«
Lone Hørslev is an author of poetry, novels, and song lyrics, as well as the TV series Den gode stemning. Together with Mads Mouritz, she forms one half of the Mouritz/Hørslev Project, and she recently wrote lyrics for the musical theatre production STOLT in collaboration with Katrine Muff. The songs can be found on the album Jeg ønsker mig.
»For us, music is... magic? Aside from the fact that we are huge fans of silence, the closing line of one of our upcoming singles perfectly captures our relationship with music:
'Music feels like magic to me / A superior art form in a marketplace / Trying to find an empty space'.
That is what it can feel like as a songwriter and performing musician. We try to hold onto an almost childlike infatuation with music, yet the art form we work in – alternative-leaning pop-rock – was created and has evolved 'in a marketplace' driven by powerful economic forces. As a romantic, that can sometimes be a bit disheartening...«
Late Runner consists of Asger Tarpgaard and Tanja Forsberg Simonsen, both formerly of the bands Superheroes and Private.