Det er noget af et sprogligt spøgelseshus, komponist og billedkunstner Alexander Tillegreen har installeret som sin første institutionelle soloudstilling i Danmark, Shift. Fantom-ord-illusionen kaldes det besynderlige tungemål, som udstillingen er baseret på. Hvileløs ordlydsparanoia eller esperanto udsat for laboratorie-LSD og elektrochok er måske lige så dækkende
Som en nyansat ghostbuster på jagt efter hjemsøgte ord bliver man kastet direkte ind i fantasmagorien. To højttalere udsender serier af snydeord, der skifter karakter alt efter hvor, man placerer sig i rummet. Lydkunstgrebet er til at tage og føle på: Den besøgende bliver selv medskaber af værket ved at bevæge sig rundt i det. Ordene, der dukker op, afhænger af hvem, der hører dem. I mit indre øre udtalte sig et »Bornholm«, som tog sig en dadaistisk udflugt og gradvist klædte om til ordene »lo-fi«, »luffer« og »løvefar«. Automatskrivning i lydbølger.
Shift er som udstilling klinisk i sin konfronterende tilgang, og til tider går det ud over Tillegreens inddragende intention. Dobbelteksponerede fotografier af Overgadens gallerirum føles som overvågning, og løgnedetektorlignende illustrationer udstillet i glasmontrer bliver til fjerne museumsgenstande.
Mere intimt bliver det formidlet i værket episodic currents – udstillingens absolutte hovedattraktion. I den LED-blinkende og gardinomsvøbte Lynch-hule er man centrum for 19 minutters synæstetisk flimmer. Som verdens mindst beroligende ASMR blander new age-synth og filtersweeps sig med de camouflerende fantomord. Der er hele tiden noget, der undslipper én. Det er til at blive lykkeligt rundtosset af.
»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.
The Finnish multimedia artist Jan Anderzén has, with the album Hoshi, released under the solo moniker Tomutonttu, created a true little star. Not only because »hoshi« literally means »star« in Japanese, but above all due to the music itself. There is something cosmic, yet infinitely minute, about the sonic worlds Anderzén conjures—like a galaxy reflected in a puddle, or a space journey in a rocket carved from a hollow tree trunk. Synths emit busy, warm blips and bloops, while ultra-short vocal and instrumental samples create a recognizable blur. At once artificial and organic – soft, rounded, jagged, crackling.
Anderzén approaches sound with a playfulness I simply adore. His music is strange in an incredibly comforting way. It places me in a kind of colorful, trance-like state, only interrupted when, several times over the course of the album, I find myself smiling in delight at a particularly great sound. The synths on »Katse osuu sähköön!« The choral samples on »Kesä oli äkkiä ohi!« Milo Linnovaara’s flute on »Malta lausua ‘AH’!« And many more. Hoshi is an album packed with microscopic moments that together form a frayed, exploding, radiant, idiosyncratic whole—a stellar moment of just under 38 minutes.
