In brief
23.05.2022

Verden gennem fortættet vanddamp

Randi Pontoppidan & Povl Kristian: »Life in Life«
© Randi Pontoppidan
© Randi Pontoppidan

Antydningens kunst. Er det ikke den, der hersker her? Jeg kigger op mod himlen og ser regnvåde skyer, lukker øjnene og lytter til vindspillet på albummets åbning. Noget sætter sig i bevægelse.

Klokkerne camouflerer sig hurtigt som elektroniske lysglimt, virkeligheden i let forvrængning. Da Pontoppidan træder ind med sin luftige og nære vokal – et blidt kaudervælsk – lyder det fonetiske vemod som et farvel til verden, som vi kender den.

Vi er trådt ind i en drøm. Jeg åbner øjnene og ser lyset skubbe skyerne rundt. I den nye verden mødes jeg af besatte vokalloops og dybe toneklynger i Povl Kristians afmålte klaverspil. En ursuppe. Cirklende akkordbrydninger chanter Pontoppidans længselsfulde, diskante linjer frem.

Hun gisper efter vejret, synger på ind- og udåndinger. Det lyder som en ny verdens fødsel. Og som et blidere supplement til Marcela Lucatellis mere monstrøse, ligeledes ordløse vokalkunst. Tilbageholdt antydning.

Life in Life indeholder kimen til et verdensopbyggende værk i større format. Det er mere interessant, når albummet viser virkeligheden gennem et slør – som på afslutteren »Rise«, hvor man ligesom befinder sig i fjern nærhed af en chanteuse – end når det søger meditativ ro på »Ocean of Bliss«.

Den forunderlige udgivelse er bedst, når Pontoppidan løfter os ind i den urolige drøm. Op i de grå skyer, hvor man ser ned på en forandret verden gennem fortættet vanddamp. Deroppefra ligner alting akkurat ikke sig selv. Sikke et syn.

© Kåre Viemose

»Recently, I discovered that when a couple of thousand people clap their thick gloves in minus 30 degrees, it sounds like the softest techno – a freezing space where the cold air turns into a wave of warmth, and we, in a moment of collective devotion, become one with the rhythm, one with the invisible bond that connects us in the warmth of silence. Music is not just sounds, but a vain attempt to capture the infinite, which has always been and always will be.«

Andreo Michaelo Mielczarek has been the editor-in-chief of Seismograf since 2021. He is also a music critic and cultural journalist at Kristeligt Dagblad and Århus Stiftstidende/Avisen Danmark and has over the years written to publications such as Kunsten.nu, Glissando (Poland), Neural (Italy), Raw Vision (UK), Nutida Musik (Sweden), Kunstkritikk (DK/Sweden), Iscene.dk, B.T., and Jazz Special. He is the author (together with Lars Muhl) of the book HVA' SAA! En guidet rutsjebanetur gennem Aarhus – før, nu og i fremtiden (2024) and has also contributed to the anthology on music criticism Man skal høre meget (ed. Thomas Michelsen and Claus Røllum-Larsen, 2024). He is a founder and partner in the Polish-Danish cultural organization Kultur(a), and wherever there is a piano, he will be there, eager to coax a melody from it.

© PR

»A lot is projected onto music and making music – I'm careful, singing doesn't make you more intelligent and certainly doesn't make you a better person. It's like in sexuality. A lot of things go very consciously wrong for some people. Music like sex are means of communication, people come into contact and negotiate with each other and their instruments/tools and meet themselves in it. This is also the case when I listen to music – from every conceivable genre and context, even if I always notice that as a teenager I used to play a lot of jazz guitar.«

Bastian Zimmermann lives in Munich and works freelance in the areas of music and performance. As a dramaturge, he works with artists such as the soloist ensemble Kaleidoskop, Yael Ronen and Neo Hülcker. He is editor of the German speaking magazine Positionen – Texts on Current Music and curates projects such as »Music for Hotel Bars« and the festival Music Installations Nuremberg festival. His focus is on social aspects of making music, experimental music concepts and the questioning of bourgeois structures in contemporary music. In Spring 2025 he will take over the Wolke Verlag publishing house for books on music with Patrick Becker.

© PR

»Music to me is… my work. I've landed in the best job in the world, where a core task is to discover new music, to learn its internal logic and aesthetics, who created it, and why. I'm a music researcher and have just returned from the island of Java in Indonesia with my research partner and husband Nils, where we've been visiting experimental musicians in Yogyakarta – artists we've now followed for seven years.
One recurring theme is the trance/horse dance jathilan (or jaranan), which several of the artists have introduced us to. Jathilan is on one hand an old Javanese ritual, and on the other hand a contemporary (village) culture in full development. There is no single historically 'correct' jathilan. It's a practice that follows an old spiritual ritual, but is also open to current Indonesian influences.

The playlist consists of three tracks by Senyawa, Gabber Modus Operandi, and Raja Kirik, all of whom have incorporated the ritual into their music. The fourth track was supposed to be a 'traditional' jathilan, but as far as I know, no such recording exists on Spotify. Instead, I found a related jaranan piece that includes a dangdut song – an ultra-popular genre that is often performed as part of a jathilan event. The final track is one of the most popular dangdut songs at the moment.«

Sanne Krogh Groth is Associate Professor of Musicology at Lund University, Sweden, where she conducts research on electronic music and sound art, currently with a focus on Indonesia. Sanne was editor-in-chief of Seismograf from 2011–2019. In 2015, she established Seismograf Peer, which she is still the managing editor of.

© Henry Detweiler

»For me, music is work and a way to escape it. Music is the fanciest way of communication and therefore the most delicious food for analysis. It is what prolongs your feeling for longer than you can physically hold. Music is something after which you say: 'I’m glad you didn’t use words'. After all, it’s something that makes your commute or chores shorter, and this time-controlling function is the very first and foremost mystery I love about it.«

Liza Sirenko is a music theorist and music critic from Kharkiv, Ukraine. She is a co-founder and board member of the Ukrainian media about classical music The Claquers. She is a former Fulbright Visiting Scholar at the Graduate Center, CUNY (New York, USA), and a graduate of National Music Academy of Ukraine (Kyiv, Ukraine). Her current interests include processes in the classical music industry, contemporary opera in Ukraine, and a role of postcolonial moves in these. Liza is a former PR Director of the Kyiv Symphony Orchestra, currently working as a Program Officer at the Goethe-Institut Ukraine.