© Rene Passet
© Rene Passet

The only thing  that might be missing was a yippie ki-yay from William Basinski when he took on the Copenhagen Distillery as part of The Last Symphony tour. »Buckle up bitches«, it sounded so raw that for a moment you thought it was Bruce Willis on stage. Basinski's riveting superstar charisma is the perfect contrast to his crumbling and self-indulgent ambient music.

The concert was refreshingly far from the extended space of contemplation I associate with Basinski's recorded works. His famous series The Disintegration Loops (2002-2003), in which the mortal world of tape loops crumbles in slow motion, was emblematic of the concerns many had around the turn of the millennium: Was the infinity of the brave new digital world actually the beginning of the end? Like no one else, Basinski manages to let the question of technological determinism sound open in his music: The patinated tape recordings contain no answer, but instead a curious state, where repetition and impermanence stop pulling at the sense of time from either side and instead come full circle.

It was fascinating to experience the way Basinski processed his loops. Every time he put a new sound into rotation, it seemed as if it was his first encounter with it. Quickly, a sucking field of reverberation and feedback arose, forming a sphere from the orbits of the tape loops. The analog sound sometimes gnawed at the music with its small clips and grinding compression.

The distance between the ambient terrains was short and the concert, which was followed by two encores, was more collage-like than the wasteland Basinski usually paints. The landscape was particularly captivating as a six-note motif consumed itself in reverberation and gave way to what sounded like Arabic ornamented chant. Basinski found transcendence in the high frequencies, and when at one point he extended a bright vocal sound beyond the murky tape environment, the boundary between heaven and earth disappeared. It was incomprehensibly beautiful to hear how the vocals hovered  like a radiant deity over the profane tape-recorded world. 

English translation: Andreo Michaelo Mielczarek

in briefrelease
06.02

Small Snowflakes in a Brutal Snowstorm

Mads Emil Dreyer: »Miniatures«
© PR
© PR

As this review was being written, a snowstorm swept across Denmark, and even Østerbro was submerged in beautiful white snow. This turned out to be a remarkably fitting backdrop for the Danish composer Mads Emil Dreyer’s latest compositions, which are marked by melancholic, childlike phrases of glockenspiel and distant synths. The minimalist works are performed by the ensembles Scenatet, EKKI MINNA, and Athelas Sinfonietta, all of whom share a commitment to contemporary music, uncompromising experimentation, and a playful approach to acoustics and perspectives – qualities that are clearly audible in the works themselves.

Echoes of metallic sound surfaces blend with occasional floating pads, often tipping from the beautiful into the unsettling. The first half of the album is shaped by slightly brighter and more playful melodies, with »Miniature I–II« and »I–III« in particular delivering beautiful themes that frequently strike straight to the heart. A brief intermezzo opens the album’s second half, where abrasive keys and pads are introduced, and the ringing glockenspiels hover above the listener like eerie shadows or frightening ghosts.

The suites are short, simple, and effective, yet at the same time deeply atmospheric. In a short space of time, Miniatures has become a favored sonic space for this reviewer when there is a need to retreat into the chambers of the mind, where the blend of glockenspiel and principles of chance appears like small, glistening snowflakes in a long and brutal snowstorm.

in briefrelease
04.02

Poetic Nocturnal Rummaging

Bent Sørensen: »12 Nocturnes & Piano Concerto No. 3, La sera estatica«
Bent Sørensen. © Peter Christian Christensen
Bent Sørensen. © Peter Christian Christensen

Why is it that one can always recognize a lullaby? This musical archetype, circular and hushed, sung into us with mother’s milk. Composer Bent Sørensen’s solo piano cycle 12 Nocturnes is a tribute to the night’s musical cultural heritage. The nocturne – a nocturnal, lyrical composition – merges with, among other forms, lullabies and cantatas in a poetic narrative from sunset to sunrise about what is close at hand and yet unfathomable: that the sun rises, that children are born, that stars can be glimpsed through small windows on earth, that the piano can create worlds with twelve tones.

Bent Sørensen wrote the twelve short nocturnes between 2000 and 2014 for pianist (and wife) Katrine Gislinge. They have previously been released digitally. Now they appear as a studio recording paired with Piano Concerto No. 3, La sera estatica. The premiere of this “ecstatic evening” stands in contrast to the nocturnes’ simple, balanced forms. With a dramatic opening, multiple orchestral groups, and crackling storminess in the soundscapes, the dreamy nocturnal universe is ruptured by a surging ardor that unfolds in two parts, where purer melodic lines gradually take over the second – complete with a distinct (night?) bell.

Yet the piano concerto’s sovereign quality does not quite come into its own when presented as a postscript to the nocturnes’ rounded narrative. The two elements work best separately, so that the ecstatic evening for full orchestra does not puncture the magic of stars scattered blinking across the piano’s staccato attacks, or Sigrid’s nocturnal dances and lullabies. There is ample drama in the beautifully conveyed single night – for even the child Sigrid will one day no longer be sung to sleep.

© PR

»For me, music is a rush in the chest – a way of understanding and expressing emotions.«

Cecilie Penney (b. 1990, Denmark) will be presenting the exhibition Rest and Routine – Duet for Sanatorium and Modern Hospital at Nikolaj Kunsthal from February. She is a visual artist and electronic composer working across sound, installation, video, and text. Her practice explores how infrastructure and cultural norms shape human behaviour, and how emotions and empathy unfold within structural, linguistic, and technological systems.

In recent years, Penney has focused in particular on the Scandinavian healthcare system and on how patients navigate institutions that can be difficult to access and understand. Through a conceptual approach, she examines how patients are often expected to conform to rigid frameworks that fail to accommodate individual needs. By creating imagined or alternative worlds, Penney explores new possibilities for healing and transformation within bureaucratic systems, while inviting reflection on how systemic change might emerge from emotional insight and collective rethinking.

Penney holds an MFA from the Royal Danish Academy of Fine Arts in Copenhagen and a BFA in Fine Art Photography from HDK-Valand in Gothenburg.

© Mishael Oladipo Fapohunda

»As Bertolt Brecht once wrote: 'In dark times, will there also be singing? Yes · there will be singing, about the dark times'.«

SLIM0 is a Copenhagen based doom/grunge/punk trio consisting of Mija Milovic (guitar), Lena Milovic (guitar) and Simin Stine Ramezanali (drums). The vocals of all three members can be heard throughout, the voice being a central element to the band's practice. SLIM0 uses minimal, albeit feisty arrangements to convey a strong sense of ominousness. Through crashed cymbals, distorted guitars and voices in unison, they present a full body of work hailing from personal takes on classic punk/rock tropes with SLIM0 as the omniscient narrator. Their debut album FORGIVENESS was released in October 2024 via 15 love. 

© Søren Lynggaard
© Søren Lynggaard

It is difficult not to read a great deal into trumpeter, composer and all-round musical visionary Palle Mikkelborg’s new solo album Light. He has long since passed retirement age, withdrew from touring in 2024, and with this release has presented something that very much feels like a kind of farewell.

The opening track, Per Nørgård’s »At tænde lys« (»To Light a Candle«), is pure Mikkelborg: his lyrical, elevated and elegiac solo trumpet, in both form and expression, speaks directly to the listener’s heart. Elsewhere, he draws on old soundscape recordings, combining them with piano and trumpet. The interplay between the old and the new creates a compelling mystique and casts a subtle, unsettling shadow over the music.

»Capricorn« perhaps stands out most strongly: a tender and romantic reimagining for solo piano of one of his own pieces, like a loving glance back at bygone times and former triumphs. And then, of course, the closing track, Thomas Laub’s »Stille, hjerte, sol går ned« (»Be Still, Heart, the Sun is Setting«), where Mikkelborg’s melancholic trumpet is joined by Jakob Bro’s guitar, Helen Davies’ harp and Thomas Lis’s choral soundscape. Together they create a piece of music that truly feels like a farewell, marked by both uncertainty and sorrow, but also acceptance and gratitude.

All in all, Light is the perfect distillation of Mikkelborg’s musical life – a cavalcade of the qualities that have always defined him as a musician: light, colour, life, mysticism, love. Whether this will be the final release from Mikkelborg’s hand, I do not know, but if it should prove to be the case, few swan songs have ever sounded so beautiful.