Overværede jeg lige et seksuelt samkvem med en kæphest/-enhjørning? Ja. Kan den slags virkelig vare 45 minutter? Nej. Men kun fordi basbaryton Jacob Bloch iførte sig en glimmerdragt halvvejs gennem værket og i stedet lod sig jagte af en digital teddybjørn. Det var mærkeligt, men trods alt bedre end første dels blufærdighedskrænkende kollektive overgreb. Denne elektriske opera, Me & Stjärna af Alexandra Hallén, havde verdenspræmiere første aften på SPOR Festival og blev genopført den følgende dag, hvor jeg forventningsfuldt havde indfundet mig på Godsbanens Åbne Scene. Værket var beskrevet som en opera iscenesat med løbebånd, hvor den fysiske udmattelse ville indvirke på sangerens åndedræt og dermed den musikalske struktur, mens Stjärna-figuren (altså kæphesten) skulle fungere som et objekt for ugensidigt og uforløst begær. Men tro mig – der var både forløsning og gensidighed fra Stjärnas side. 

He is busy. Constantly on the move, touring his performances across Europe. And in April Simon Steen-Andersen turns 50. At the moment, he is working on a revival of his latest production, Run Time Anomaly (2025), which will be staged at the Akademie der Künste in Berlin in July. I catch him on a dark afternoon via a Zoom call to that very city, where he sits ready in his apartment.

Steen-Andersen – who over time has developed into as much a scenographer and director as a composer – premiered the work last November, and, as he says: »I’m extremely excited about the second round.« Like many of his other works, Run Time Anomaly is created as an extension of the work series Run Time Error (2009–2022), which he describes as »a concept for site-specific video compositions, performances, and installations.«

Estonia is an unusually small country with an unusually rich and multifaceted musical life. In the corridor leading passengers out of Tallinn Airport, large posters display photographs and life-philosophical quotes by Arvo Pärt, whose global fame has long since become something the country proudly brands itself with.

I have just landed and am on my way to Estonian Music Days, the contemporary music festival that, under various names, has existed since 1979. Like many others, I was first introduced to Estonian music through the works of the now 90-year-old composer. Yet these posters also draw my attention to the contradiction he, in a sense, embodies.

On the one hand, he is a mainstream icon who has helped place Estonia on the cultural world map. On the other, he is a massive elephant in the room for the country’s musical life – one that undoubtedly benefits from the attention his reputation has brought, yet must also constantly struggle to free itself from the dominance he inevitably exerts, both internally and externally, as the single most towering institution in Estonian music.

1. Elektroniske nocturner

Berlin og elektronisk musik hører sammen som pot og pande. Siden 1999 har CTM været et sted, hvor nye æstetikker, politiske strømninger og klubkulturens næste bevægelser har kunnet spores. I år kunne man på en af de første koncertdage sætte sig i mørket og lytte til elektroniske nocturner på Radialsystem.

feeO tog afsæt i klubmusikken, men det var som om, pulsen var vendt indad. Man skulle vente længe på klimaks i sangene, som bevægede sig mellem drone, ambient og minimalistisk rytmik med stemmen i centrum. Jeg hørte dem som dæmpede, næsten private nocturner.

»After the performance, the audience is invited to stay with the performers to share impressions, thoughts, and feelings together – both in conversation and in silence. Anne Cecilie’s famous Røst fish soup and a vegetarian alternative will be served to warm our bodies. Together, we can reflect on what has unfolded on stage, process the loss of biodiversity we are witnessing, and perhaps sow a seed of hope.«

Welcome to Borealis. Here, we do everything together. Before the opening performance Vedøya – Laments to the Birdmountain Who Lost Their Voice, we were invited – following Pauline Oliveros – to greet one another and look each other in the eye in the foyer of Cornerteateret.