In brief
20.03.2023

Schuberts norske lounge

Eivind Buerne: »Schubert Lounge«
© PR
© PR

Det er altid en stor risiko at genfortolke klassiske ikoner og trække dem ind på den moderne scene, især hvis man er en prisvindende komponist og musiker af international berømmelse som fx nordmanden Eivind Buene. Klassisk musik har, som alle genrer, sin lille kreds af purister og aficionados, der er prompte til at afvise ethvert forsøg på at flytte de statuer, de elsker, ud af deres mausolæer. Og det er præcis, hvad Buene gør med sit album Schubert Lounge.

Selve titlen annoncerer en uortodoks tilgang til det berømte tyske romantiske musikgeni: en lounge er ikke ligefrem den type rum eller arkitektonisk installation, man umiddelbart ville forbinde med Franz Schubert. Men hvad Buene peger på, er, at Schuberts musik, og specifikt hans sange, de berømte lieder sunget af Kathleen Ferrier og Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau, handler om intimitet, og at de kan høres i dag i den halvt oplyste komfort i en lounge, som de blev det i en salon med levende lys.

Der er ti sange på albummet, alle med deres titler på engelsk og uden det tilsvarende tyske navn. For eksempel »The Sea« og »Beautiful Moon«, som er (meget) kendte som »Am Meer« og »An Den Mond«. Selve sangene er oversat (eller tilpasset) til engelsk, hvilket gør hele projektet til et enestående musikalsk objekt, som totalt dekonstruerer musikhistoriens traditionelle fængselsmure.

Eivind Buenes stemme kan ikke sammenlignes med Ferriers eller Fischer-Dieskaus, og det forsøger den ikke engang. Ved at omarrangere harmonier i moderne dissonanser og erstatte nuancerne med en overraskende flad tone, og nogle gange skifte til sarte højere toner, fortæller Buene os, at klassisk musik ikke er, hvad vi antager, den er: et ubevægeligt monument, der bliver ved med at gentage sig selv. At gøre Schubert til en transnational komponist er et radikalt valg og et ret farligt valg, idet risikoen er at blive til grin, undgået eller, endnu værre, ignoreret. En norsk kunstner, der beslutter sig for at synge tyske lieder fra 1800-tallet oversat til engelsk i 2022 er ikke bare en handling, det er et radikalt manifest. Som Buene har skrevet i en artikel offentliggjort på nettet, »Musik er altid nu i det klingende øjeblik. Musik er på en måde en historie om ufærdigt arbejde.«

Og dette album beviser det absolut.

© Mateusz Szota

»For me, music is a particular engine for diversity, identity, individuality, and community. Music has an immediate ability both to create and strengthen safe spaces and to expand and tear apart the boundaries of existence.«

Artist, curator, and educator Jacob Eriksen works between Struer and Berlin. He is head of Sound Art Lab, festival director of Struer Tracks, director of studies at 89 Sound Art School, and teaches Sound Studies and Sonic Arts at UdK Berlin.

In brief
11.07

Fata Morgana Between Two Continents

Niels Lyhne Løkkegaard & Michael Pisaro-Liu: »Fata Morgana«
© PR
© PR

Back in the day, people watched Beverly Hills 90210 simply because it filled the flow-TV schedule. Artist Niels Lyhne Løkkegaard, too, spent his youth wandering through those virtual Californian landscapes. In the project Fata Morgana, Løkkegaard and American composer Michael Pisaro-Liu explore this strange experience between place and fiction. With the alto recorder as their weapon, they invite us both home and away. And, as a nostalgic homage to bygone media realities, the project comes with an A-side and a B-side. It begins with »Visit«: the crackle of forest floor near Løkkegaard’s childhood home in western Jutland, recorded in 2021. The microphone is placed somewhere, a few steps are taken – and then silence... Far away, the alto recorder begins a melody surrounded by birdsong. This homely soundscape is woven into the listener’s own sense of place. Was that a car driving by – here? Or there?

On the B-side, »Visitation«, Pisaro-Liu repositions the flute piece in California in 2024. The tension rises; the melody is visited and haunted from the other side of the globe. It is disturbed and distorted by electric signals, siren tones, interfering noise, and fragments of American voices murmuring things about »fever dream« and »not anything in particular.«

For indeed, there isn’t really anything. It’s classic Løkkegaard: an imagined world unfolding in the listener’s mind. It could have been done in less than 2x22 minutes, but the idea is strong, simple, and well executed. Like the sonic version of a cartoon mirage shimmering falsely in the sharp Californian sunlight.

English translation: Andreo Michaelo Mielczarek

© Malthe Ivarsson

»For me, music is the light that streams in through our windows and touches the human mind. Music is community – something we create together. Music is the other language – the one that can be spoken when all words and conversations have been worn to pieces.«

Mark Solborg is a Danish-Argentinian guitarist, composer, and improviser, educated at institutions including the Rhythmic Music Conservatory and New School University in New York. He has released 28 albums of his own works and collaborated with figures such as Evan Parker, Susana Santos Silva, and Herb Robertson – often on the artist-run label ILK, which he co-founded. His music has been performed in 23 countries and involves musicians from 15 nations. Projects such as TUNGEMÅL and BABEL explore the role of the electric guitar in acoustic spaces, and his practice also includes collaborations with theatre, film, and visual art. Solborg is a recipient of a Reumert Award, has been honored by the Danish Arts Foundation, and in 2024 was nominated for a Danish Music Award as Composer of the Year. He is currently releasing the album Confluencia.

In briefrelease
04.07

When Machines Dream: The Electronic Poetry of Oh No Noh

Oh No Noh: »As Late As Possible«
© Nikolas Fabian Kammerer
© Nikolas Fabian Kammerer

There’s something distinctly mechanical about Oh No Noh’s album As Late As Possible. Like a warped, crumpled tape, melodies bubble to the surface, and the offbeat rhythms repeat with the halting tempo of a scratched LP. It’s easy to place Oh No Noh within the esteemed German tradition of blurring the lines between human and machine, but on As Late As Possible, the machine sounds more like a distant relative than a deliberate artistic objective.

Behind Oh No Noh is Leipzig-based guitarist Markus Rom. In addition to a wealth of synthesizers and tape loops, the album’s 11 tracks are performed using guitar, drums, banjo, clarinet, and organ. The absence of vocals sets the album in a subdued, cinematic mood, and the music feels like a nostalgic inner monologue, told with a warm affection for the melancholy of outdated technologies.

Although mechanical sensibilities are prominent throughout the album, several tracks are driven by more melodic band arrangements. But to me, As Late As Possible is clearly most compelling on the less melodic pieces. The crooked and noisy »Fawn« or the hesitant closing track »Ore« are moments where the dialogue with the machine elevates the music in ways that the more melodic, band-oriented pieces don’t quite reach. These are places where the machines sigh nostalgically and form small, imperfect thought bubbles that cut off and restart again.

English translation: Andreo Michaelo Mielczarek

© Hreinn Gudlaugsson

»Music for me is like a sourdough. If you don't feed it right it is going to die. If you feed it correctly a lot of people can benefit from it.« 

Halym Kim is a drummer, composer and project coordinator based in Copenhagen. His music is mainly based in free improvisation and experimental music but performs also as a traditional Korean percussionist. He has a Master and an Advanced Postgraduate Diploma in Music Performance from RMC in Copenhagen. Together with Nana Pi he organizes Impro Camp which is a music camp for free and structured improvised music that is happening every year in Fredericia, Denmark.