in brief
24.06.2022

Burattellis musikalske eksil

Francesca Burattelli: »Battle Fatigue«
© Francesca Burattelli
© Francesca Burattelli

Tågen har lagt sig på andet album fra den elektroniske komponist og vokalist Francesca Burattelli: På Battle Fatigue damper en mystik fra de rumklangsmættede elektroniske lyde. Er det de katolske katedraler, vi hører? Eller et overjordisk spilunivers?

Burattelli søger ikke forløsningen, men dekonstruktionen. Korthusene bliver bygget med en drift mod kollapset – som om musikken allerede er væltet, når den går i gang. Det kan være frustrerende at gå i møde som lytter, fordi det føles som om, at indgangen til numrene er låst. Vi vil gerne lukkes ind. 

Accepterer man distancen, er der efter et par gennemlytninger meget at komme efter. Titelnummerets messende første halvdel føles æterisk som hellig røgelse. »Save your mana for the long run,« lyder det gamer-agtigt i en Kate Bush-poppet frase, inden musikken knækker over på midten og bliver til beat-fragmenter og spoken word. Det er musikalsk exodus – eksil fra de fasttømrede referencer og nedarvede former. 

Til tider tætner disen og bliver til tordenskyer. På »La Cura« sender Burattelli italiensk rappende lynild af sted oven på et tryksparkende minimalt beat. Den Arca-agtige »Giove« giver også gyngende smæk for skillingen. Blodtørsten skaber åbninger. Man forstår, at Burattellis musik ikke handler om virkelige verdener eller jordiske følelser. Alligevel kan de mærkes. 

© Linnea Syversen

»Music, to me, reflects human experience and allows us to find ourselves on an entirely existential level, beyond language. It feels like a shared realm to which we all have access. Music may be the art form that requires the least intellectual processing (although it can certainly involve that, too!). Because it consists of sound unfolding over time, we must recreate its colours and emotions within ourselves. This can happen rapidly, as if we were possessed by a force from outside. Music contains many layers of codes to which we relate in both similar and different ways. Some of these codes, such as pulse, resonate with unconscious levels within us that date back to prehistoric times. Other layers, such as familiar musical references, speak to the modern, cultivated human being. This interplay makes music uniquely stimulating! In cultural policy discourse, art is often reduced to an instrument for something else (which it certainly is and can be, too). In doing so, we forget art’s intrinsic value.«

Solveig Sørbø is a composer, music producer and artist who creates classical music and alternative pop. She composed the music for the documentary Hans pluss Liv (NRK), and a piece from the film was later performed by KORK (the Norwegian Radio Orchestra). On the occasion of the 2026 solar eclipse, she composed an orchestral work connecting Dante’s metaphysics with the physics of celestial bodies.

Solveig has previously worked in academia on innovative projects such as MusicLab (the edition featuring DSQ was named Event of the Year by DR), as well as as a radio journalist and presenter for NRK and radiOrakel. With a methodological approach to art, Solveig seeks to create music that moves people.

Her critically acclaimed opera Heroin chic, with a libretto by award-winning author Maria Kjos Fonn, premiered at the Classix Festival in Romania in 2025 and received its Norwegian premiere at Parkteatret in Oslo in February 2026. Following this, Ballade dubbed her »Music’s Klæbo«. Solveig is currently working on an opera based on Ibsen’s The Wild Duck, among other projects, and preparing a concert with the band Naturhistorisk.

© Ditte Marie Walter Thygesen

»I listen a lot to music from games that I play myself. Furthermore, through my work as a director, I am introduced to a wealth of fantastic music by my wonderful colleagues on every new project. I use music as a tool in my theatrical processes – both to get into the right mood when preparing to convey meanings and directions to the artists, designers, and performers involved, and simply to wake up in the morning while making my coffee. Music often communicates more clearly than words; much like scenic actions and visual expressions, it can be highly precise in conveying emotional content – often more so than the spoken or written word. I love that kind of affect!«

Emil Rostrup is a theatre director. In recent years, he has directed productions such as Bad Mexican Dog (2026) at Sort/Hvid, Crip (2026) at Revolver, Klodshans og Prinsessen (2026) at Aalborg Teater, Prometheus (2025) at Nørrebro Teater, Vi, de druknede (2025) at Republique, and Pow Pow Pow (2024) at Revolver.

He graduated from the Danish National School of Performing Arts in 2020 as a theatre director. His graduation production was Woyzeck Ehxibited – a devised paraphrase of Georg Büchner’s classic, Woyzeck.

© Carsten Seidel

»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.

Viner Khaiitov. © Tatita Zhiliaeva
»Music is the opposite of escape for me right now: it’s where the tension gets held, repeated and turned into rhythm.«
 
Viner is a DJ and producer based between Marseille and Barcelona, where he runs the label and art lab PATAR. Born in Ulyanovsk to an Uzbek, Tatar and Bashkir family, he started making music in Kazan. In 2022 he recorded across Uzbekistan: Navruz in Tashkent, the Stihia festival in Muynak (where he was technical director), and street sound in Khiva, Bukhara and Samarkand. On 2330 (PATAR, November 2026) those recordings are cut into fragments of two seconds or less and set into three-beat loops running against the main pulse, »doira« patterns that take several bars to come round, and bass in blunt, distorted blocks. The sources stay half-legible. What carries is the friction, held for five tracks and never quite released.
 
 
 
 
© PR

»For me, music is a kind of secret path – a gateway to emotions, thoughts, and ideas that might otherwise be difficult to access. It serves as a shortcut to daydreaming and creativity – to those moments when I feel most connected to my own humanity and that of others. Through music, my own life intertwines with the artist’s, and together we create something entirely new.«

Kristoffer Møllegaard holds an MA in Russian Language and Culture from the University of Copenhagen (2017), with a specialization in future speculation within Russian art and philosophy. He writes regularly about Russian culture and, in his spare time, is active as a visual artist and amateur saxophonist. He has been a contributor to Seismograf since 2020.