These days, Organ Sound Art Festival is taking place in its familiar setting at KoncertKirken, and yesterday marked the festival’s second day. The concert opened with revivals of Mads Emil Dreyer’s Vidder 1 and 4, along with a newly composed interlude for pump organ, house organ, keys, and bass flute – all instruments amplified. In this way, Dreyer obscured the sources of the sounds and created a beautiful interplay between the acoustic, the amplified, and the played-back. Was it the flute or the organ I was hearing? And did the sound come from an instrument or a loudspeaker? The music bore the mark of drone music, with beautiful dissonances and a tonal development that occasionally peeked through. Enchanting and compelling.

In the next performance, the German duo Gamut inc. had fitted the church organ with two robots, allowing a computer to control the instrument. Unfortunately, I was left wondering whether the robots were properly calibrated, or whether the music had been composed for a church space with significantly more reverberation. In any case, it sounded »MIDI-dead« – a bit like a silly »piano roll« video of an obscure serial work.

The duo Aron Dahl & Mija Milovic concluded the evening with music whose tenderness and honesty might recall The xx – if the British indie rock group were playing on out-of-tune house organs. Still, the music became somewhat monotonous, and their setup appeared underutilized.

The slightly mixed experience of the evening’s program does not change the fact that Organ Sound Art Festival is an atmospheric and ambitious festival that dares to take chances when presenting us with new works for an instrument that many still associate with bygone days. This Copenhagen-based festival is anything but dusty.

Liebe is a performance in which everythingcomes together in a higher unity in a way one only rarely encounters. Even the ripples in the stage carpet, created by the performers’ imprints, are tender and electric to behold. The music is sparse and austere, like modernized Renaissance vocal music, while the dance is rooted in the traditional and is just as restrained and measured.

The two performers, Alma Toaspern and Mathias Monrad Møller – who also serve respectively as choreographer and composer – sing and dance alone on stage, while excerpts from the French writer Annie Ernaux’s recollections of an all-consuming infatuation and the desire for »perfect love« are projected onto the backdrop.

If I were to describe Liebe in a single word, it would be contrapuntal – a strict way of writing music with particular attention to how melodies in polyphony affect one another. It is astonishing how this otherwise old idea has been revitalized so convincingly. The material is carefully selected and thoroughly worked through – the music, scenography, lighting, and costumes felt like both the softest surprise and the most natural inevitability.

Møller’s and Toaspern’s meticulous synchronization, with no support beyond each other, is equally astonishing. The duo’s rigorous compositional strategy and uncompromising choreography are more than mere tools in a toolbox. They are part of an investigation of the erotic and the amorous: to be subjected, examined, and desired. Liebe is one of those performances one feels grateful to have experienced.