Til de der ikke kender Bergen festspillene, hvordan vil du kort karakterisere dens særpræg i forhold til andre festivaler? 
Beyer: Festspillene er stor og med 232 produktioner i 2013 større end de fleste festivaler, som har fokus på musik, teater, dans med mere. Det interessante for mig ved at arbejde med denne festival er, at den både er bred og smal, båret af stolte traditioner og samtidig vildt eksperimenterende. En undersøgelse fra 2008 viser, at 86% af Norges befolkning kender Festspillene, og en undersøgelse fra 2010 viser, at 97% af befolkningen i Bergen/Hordaland kender festivalen. Arkivet for Festspillene i Bergen er netop blevet optaget i det nyoprettede og eksklusive register «Norges Dokumentarv». 

Vi taler med andre ord om en festival, som i nordmændenes egen selvforståelse har betydet noget for Norge som nation. Hele byen er i undtagelsestilstand i 15 dage, og du er nødt til at være her, hvis du vil opleve det nye fødes og det gamle tolket af verdens bedste udøvere. Med et generøst budget og en række fantastiske støttespillere, kan vi gennemføre omfattende og komplicerede projekter, som andre ikke har administrative og økonomiske muskler til at realisere. Hvis du f.eks. samler alle vores ny musikaktiviteter i år, vil du se, at der er tale om ikke så få produktioner, faktisk en hel festival i festivalen.

Hvad ser du frem til som festivalens højdepunkter? 
Beyer: Jeg synes, at alle vores produktioner er interessante. Mens jeg skriver disse linjer (tirsdag den 21. red.), lyder en flot musik fra Festpladsen, hvor Phase7 prøver på den spektakulære event i morgen aften, hvor nye electronica beats, 300 syngende børn og unge, lurspillere og 35 lysende helikoptere svæver over byen. Før dette har vi haft premiere i Grieghallen på operaen Marco Polo af Tan Dun, som bliver en billedstorm og vokal og musikalsk eksotisme og ekvilibrisme. Det nyskabende sker ikke mindst på teaterområdet, og der har vi bl.a. verdenspremiere på Coelacanth af Alan Lucien Øyen. Det er en fem timer lang forestilling, som på alle måder er stort tænkt. Listen er lang over produktioner, jeg gerne vil nævne, måske det er bedre at invitere læserne inden for på www.fib.no – så kan de selv gå på opdagelse i vores tre indgange til programmet: Fornøjelser, forbindelser og forstyrrelser.

Hvad er årets kunstneriske sats? 
Beyer: Festspillene har tradition for at satse på unge talenter. Det er på denne festival, at Leif Ove Andsnes, Vilde Frang, Christian Ihle Hadland har fået deres kunstneriske kickstart. Vi har en nordisk solistkonkurrence for unge talenter, og vi har fokus på talentudvikling i bredeste forstand. Bergen er en ung by, en tiendedel af befolkningen er studerende på universitetet. Det er vildt spændende at tænke nye projekter med dem. Fremtidens publikum vil vi gerne nå, derfor har vi et omfattende børn- og ungeprogram. Vi har et stort, loyalt kernepublikum, som forventer klassisk musik i verdensklasse, og dette publikumssegment skal vi ikke skuffe. Festivalen er såkaldt ”knudepunktsfestival”, dvs. vi skal være motor i hele regionen og gerne i hele landet i forhold til at dele ud af vores kompetencer og netværk, vi skal arbejde mangfoldigt, med publikumsudvikling og vise Bergen som ledende kulturby. Vi arbejder i festivalen med stor virkelyst og energi for at fastholde og udbygge denne position som ledende festival i Norden på musik- og teaterområdet.

Hvordan differentierer festivalen sig fra sidste års festspil? 
Beyer: Vi har gennemført en institutionel turn-around, og er flyttet til nye lokaler. Vi har en ny strategi, nyt visuel profil og grafisk design. Vi arbejder målrettet med nye former for markedsføring, inkludering og udnyttelse af ny teknologi. Når din ambition er at rebrande en så tung og betydningsfuld institution med 61 års historie, er du nødt til at tage nogle tydelige greb i forhold til form, indhold og formidling. Du kan ikke nøjes med at flytte en lille brik i et hjørne. Du skal ville chokere.

I hvilken retning ønsker du Bergen Festspillene bevæger sig i løbet af de næste fem år?  
Beyer: Den 61-årige dame skal blive endnu mere ungdommelig, farlig og uforudsigelig.

På billede er Annar Follesø, taget af fotografen: Dag Thorenfeldt

in brieflive
07.03

Sound Crusts in Slow Motion

Abul Mogard
© Claudia Gschwend
© Claudia Gschwend

It has become common to describe a strain of ambient music as »cinematic«, thereby – perhaps unintentionally – dismissing it as mood-setting functional music rather than an art form in its own right. Yet the exploration of static sound fields and atmospheric drone structures long predates their use as a cinematic device. Within this tradition, stretching from Morton Feldman to Éliane Radigue and Phill Niblock, the Italian composer Guido Zen has, for the past fifteen years or so, inscribed himself under the pseudonym Abul Mogard. In the late 1990s he moved through London’s electronic underground with the duo Gamers In Exile and has since collaborated with, among others, the Danish composer Goodiepal.

At the concert at Alice, Mogard’s broad synth textures emerged like banks of fog. Behind a table densely packed with drum machines, mixers and patch cables – tendrils of wires curling between the machines – the black-clad Mogard stood illuminated by small clip lamps attached to the edges of his equipment. The tones were elongated, almost motionless. Time was not measured in bars but in intensity: bass resonating in the chest; a subtle adjustment of atmospheric pressure. Undramatic, yet unstoppable. The textures shifted so gradually that one often registered the changes only after they had passed. Harmonic modulations rarely felt like traditional chord changes, but rather like shadows moving across a surface.

Synth layers slid into one another with near-geological slowness, settling like accumulated sediment – gentle and colossal at once. Mogard lingered on the single tone long enough for it to begin revealing its inner life: tiny trembling vibrations, almost microscopic irregularities in the crust of sound. The sound pulsed from within, crossed by undulating patterns of interference.

English translation: Andreo Michaelo Mielczarek

 

in brieflive
06.03

Labour of Birth

Katinka Fogh Vindelev, Sankt Annæ Pigekor, Kind of Opera et al.: »Elegier over jorden«
© PR

»This pain is not only yours,« chants a choir standing in a circle around the woman in labour. »This pain is not only yours,« comes the enveloping echo from the rest of the choir, positioned along the walls of the ceremonial hall, forming a circle around the audience and inscribing us into the labour of female fertility.

Elegier over Jorden (Elegies over the Earth) is based on Sofie Isager Ahl’s reworking of the myth of Persephone, daughter of the goddess of agriculture and queen of the underworld. The Greek myth is one of those that explains the barrenness of winter by Persephone’s descent into the underworld, but in this reinterpretation she returns to earth to give birth. We follow her labour over nine months while members of the choir work in the fields, struggling for crops under pressure from the current climate collapse. Here, the regeneration of nature is not a matter for higher powers but a struggle that begins in the body and in the soil – much like that of the woman giving birth.

The ecofeminist interconnectedness of the female body and nature has been a hot topic for several years now, and I am unsure what Elegies over the Earth adds to it. My hesitation stems mainly from the harsh acoustics of the ceremonial hall at Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek which, combined with Marie Topp’s choreography – often positioning singers with their backs turned to parts of the audience – makes it difficult to hear Ahl’s words.

When Elegies over the Earth works best, it is in the dialogue and timing between the choir, the soprano and composer Katinka Fogh Vindelev in the role of the labouring Persephone, and the minimal ensemble of two violins and a cello. When the voices of Sankt Annæ Girls’ Choir curl around the cello’s dark timbre, and when the primordial woman Persephone’s lament is allowed to hang in the room for a moment before the choir resumes, the performance touches on something real. Yet the experience never quite settles in the body, and the painful struggle of birth – despite the choir’s insistent chanting – never truly becomes mine.

Performances on 5, 7 and 8 March

English translation: Andreo Michaelo Mielczarek

© PR

»For me, music is... I was about to say everything, but that's still an exaggeration. I'm a sensitive person, and therefore all art - but especially music - affects me in different ways. Music has both a therapeutic and an artistic meaning for me. Music affects my mood and gives me energy. It can also put me in a certain state where I see things differently and reflect in a different way than I would otherwise. I always have headphones in when I'm alone, I sleep to music, I work to music. The first thing I did as a new councilor was to set up my father-in-law's old B&O system in the councilor's office. It plays every day, and I very rarely close the door.« 

Jesper Kjeldsen is councilor for Culture and Citizen Service in Aarhus and a member of the city council for the Social Democrats. He graduated from Kaospiloterne and has a background as an entrepreneur, including with the company Postevand. Before his political career, he worked creatively with culture and music – he has released music, been a DJ and taught as a dance teacher. Jesper Kjeldsen has lived and worked in Greenland for a long period of time, which has influenced his view of community, culture, climate and society.

© PR

»Music for me is translation. Music for me is a musical score that can be released into sound in a thousand ways, depending on who picks up the instrument. Music for me is the attempt to embody the idea of sound in lines and dots and floor plans. Music for me is both a sought-after sound that does not ring, and a sought-after sound that does. Music for me is a song game, a parallel universe with its own temporality and its own rules.«

Matias Vestergård is a trained composer and pianist from the Royal Danish Academy of Music in Copenhagen. Since his debut in 2022, he has particularly distinguished himself with music-dramatic works – his first opera Murder on the Titanic will be performed for the third time this year, and his second opera Lisbon Floor won the award for Opera of the Year at the 2023 Reumert. He is currently working on orchestral works, a piano concerto and choral music, but dreams of writing more operas.

© PR

»Music for me is a way to stay curious. It can feel completely overwhelming to hear some music you don't know, or revisit something you haven't heard in a long time. Music makes my heart race, it makes me cry, laugh, and gesticulate wildly. It's a way to understand myself at different times in my life, and a way to create bonds with others around me.«

Hannah Schneider creates cinematic alternative pop with electronic soundscapes and strong melodies. She has released several critically acclaimed albums, toured Europe and the US, and has established herself as one of the country's most original voices. Her music has been used in film, television, and on major Scandinavian theater stages, and in recent years she has also composed commissioned works for leading museums and cultural institutions.

On her new album In This Room (February 27, 2026), she chooses – in an era marked by artificial intelligence – to insist on presence, intuition, and craftsmanship as driving forces. The album was written and recorded during a two-month residency at Thorvaldsens Museum.