26.10.2015

Nordisk Råds Musikpris uddeles på 50. år

I morgen i Reykjavik uddeles Nordisk Råds Musikpris, der samtidig kan holde 50 års jubilæum. Prisen uddeles sammen med Nordisk Råds priser i børne- og ungdomslitteratur, litteratur, musik, film, samt natur og miljø i Kulturhuset Harpa i Reykjavik.

Prisen blev uddelt første gang i 1965, i første omgang kun hvert tredje og siden hvert andet år. Siden 1990 er prisen, der desuden kommer med en check på 350.000 kr., blevet uddelt årligt. Hvert andet år gives prisen til et værk af en nulevende komponist, og hvert andet år går prisen til en solist eller et ensemble. Tidligere er prisen gået til danskere som Per Nørgård, Pelle Gudmundsen-Holmgreen, Niels-Henning Ørsted Pedersen, Palle Mikkelborg, og sidste år var det komponisten Simon Steen-Andersen, der løb med prisen for værket ”Black Box Music”.

Blandt de nominerede i år finder man den norske mezzosopran Tora Augestad, det islandske kammerorkester Kammersveit Reykjavíkur, den svenske bassist og cellist Svante Henryson, den finske akkordeonist Kimmo Pohjonen og den færøske doom metal-gruppe Hamferð.

Blandt de to danske nomineringer finder man - som det også var tilfældet i 1997 - den klassiske blokfløjtespiller Michala Petri. Læs mere om Petris vej mod Nordisk Råds Musikpris i Sune Anderbergs dugfriske anmeldelse af hendes seneste to udgivelser.

Den anden danske nominering er faldet på den elektroniske musiker HVAD. Bag navnet gemmer sig 31-årige Hari Shankar Kishore, der gennem det seneste tiår har tittet frem fra den københavnske undergrund under forskellige aliasser som DJ HVAD eller Kid Kishore eller som en del af samarbejderne Faderhuset eller Albertslund Terrorkorps, der i en slags hyldest til Rotterdam Terror Corps har indoptaget den hollandske 90’er-gabber-techno i sin lyd side om side med indiske bhangra beats, rituelle tempelklokker, alverdens glitch-lyde og hyppige vokalsamples af ord som ”perker” og ”hvad?”.

Kishore er heller ikke bleg for at køre den danske kulturarv gennem sin situationistiske dekonstruktionsmaskine af nydanskerslang og ”perker tech”, som det er blevet døbt. Hans tidlige dj-sæt indeholdt ofte brudstykker af John Mogensens ”Danmarks jord for de danske” (oprindeligt en EF-kritisk sang) og Kim Larsen, der pludselig med mussestemme sang "de kylede gas mellem hinduerne" indover helt knækkede beats og guitarfigurer fra ”Midt om natten”.

I 2007 lånte han navnet Trentemøller fra den på det tidspunkt måske mest efterspurgte danske dj, Anders Trentemøller, og fik via det sociale medie MySpace tilbudt dj-jobs i både Berlin og Rungsted, hvor man altså troede, man havde booket hitliste-housemusik.

Til daglig holder Kishore til på Kommunal Dubplate Service på Nørrebro i København, hvorfra han driver pladeselskabet Syg Nok Records og med kommunal støtte servicerer lokalbefolkningen med muligheden for at få produceret vinylplader på studiets nærmest antikke pladeskærer. Indtil videre har maskinen spyttet plader ud med Kishores egne projekter samt andre musikalske hackere som Teppop, Goodiepal eller Nørrebro-rapperen Kidd.

Og snart vil det altså vise sig, om Kishore også er vinder af Nordisk Råds Musikpris på 50-årsdagen. Den uddeles i morgen i Kulturhuset Harpa i Reykjavik. Læs mere om de nominerede og om prisen på dens officielle hjemmeside.

in briefrelease

04.02.2025

The Deep Breath

Blaume: »excess air«

Selvudgivelse, 31.01

Martin Funder

The Copenhagen-based duo Blaume’s EP excess air is a field study in the shared pulse of breathing, calmly taking a deep breath. The EP’s airy sound unfolds cyclically from the physical conditions of respiration, and with hoarse choral voices and chirping flute, the two artists – Laura Zöschg (IT) and Mette Hommel (DK) – wind their way around the healing and artistic qualities of breath.

Perhaps it is the strangely warm winter or the blooming figures on the cover, but excess air seems to carry a fragile sense of spring. The sparse instrumentation gropes its way forward improvisationally across the three tracks, and the many choral voices add a tangible physical sense of musicians at work, underscoring a feeling of tentative sprouting.

The electronic element, in the form of vocal effects and the music software Ableton, is an important part of Blaume’s expression. Vocal effects often come across as quite prominent, but when the processed voice on the track »vivus tremus« drifts into a hoarse rasp, the artificial divide between voice and effect dissolves, and the electronic becomes an obvious extension of Blaume’s shared breath.

Blaume’s excess air is a delightfully vital EP. It is music with the surplus energy to stretch far from a simple and immediate point of departure, and with a few simple means, Blaume’s debut emerges as a welcome harbinger of spring.

playlist

29.01.2025

My name is Ryong – would you like to see my playlist?

»Music for me is: inevitable.«

Ryong is a composer, artist & DJ that explores: Danish and Korean heritage, spirituality, embodiment, family and love, Ryong is also a member of the experimental pop band haloplus+. Across her releases, she draws on both ambient, noise and pop music, incorporating the sound of field recordings and spoken word. Having previously released on Why Be’s label Yegorka, and debuting on Posh Isolation with Isa Ryong, an 11 part work that explores transition and the anguish of complexity, Ryong has established herself as a unique artist in the experimental electronic music scene in Copenhagen.

in briefrelease

26.01.2025

She Makes the Music Vibrate Like a Living Organism

Astrid Sonne: »Great Doubt«

Escho, 26.01

Rasmus Weirup

When I first listened to the Danish violist, singer, and producer Astrid Sonne’s new album, Great Doubt, I honestly wasn’t quite sure what to make of it. I immediately noticed how extraordinary Sonne’s viola sounds on the album – such a powerful presence that it almost feels like a deeply complex living organism, breathing, feeling, and moving dramatically through the album’s nine songs.

My favourite track was without a doubt »Almost«, where Sonne’s fragile, subtly intense voice is accompanied solely by the viola’s minimalist pizzicato melody, which reminds me of a forgotten composition from Japanese new age pioneer Hiroshi Yoshimura’s masterpiece Green.

On most of the tracks, however, voice and viola are also joined by electronic rhythms, piano chords, and synth figures which, in contrast to the viola’s organic, vibrating sound, initially struck me as almost plastically artificial. To me, it sounded as if the viola and the electronics were being transmitted from two very different universes, unable to fully coexist. There was something about the contrast that felt slightly… uncanny.

Yet with repeated listens, everything begins to make sense. Sonne’s coolly understated voice is the glue that binds the entire soundscape together, as if it itself exists in the porous space between the viola’s raw natural force and the electronics’ tamed purity. I like it more and more – and perhaps I may even come to love it. Great Doubt is an album that, despite its modest running time of just 26 minutes, demands immersion and reflection – and ultimately rewards the listener for it.

playlist

15.01.2025

My name is Anders Søgaard – would you like to see my playlist?

»Music for me is a highway hotel. Open 24 hours a day. There are no receptionists, and you are not given keys. You wander sleepily around the hotel's many corridors, from door to door. Some doors are ajar, others you have to pry open. Behind them all are rooms. Some are sparsely furnished, others are filled to the brim with dancing people. You can stay in there for a few minutes. Some rooms you return to. Many are a bit boring, others almost knock you over. What I like most is the ones I can't really orient myself in. The rooms where I have doubts about what is floor and what is wall. And what the furniture is actually used for. All the rooms fit together. You leave the hotel and drive on along the highway of life. A different person than when you arrived.«

Anders Søgaard is a poet and professor of artificial intelligence and philosophy at the University of Copenhagen. He has written eleven books and more than 300 research articles. He has three children and lives in a housing community in Roskilde.

in brief

08.01.2025

Love and Poetry under Black Streetlights

Jørgensen/Botes: »Dråberne 5, 7, 8 og 11«

REV.RECORDS, 29.11

Marina Botes og Steen Jørgensen. © Isak Hoffmeyer

Simon Heggum

While many still sigh at the thought of seeing a full Sort Sol once again illuminate the dark grey Danish sky, the band’s eternal crooner Steen Jørgensen, together with his equally strong other half, pianist Marina Botes, has created music that is something entirely different – something deeper. And yes, I have seen words like »pretentious« and »boring« hurled at the duo, but none of that sticks to their new release, which consists of a series of intimate suites where Jørgensen’s spoken word is woven together with Botes’ magnificent piano playing. If the ambition is to build a bridge between the classical and the electronic, it succeeds convincingly.

As a lyricist who moves through the same pitch-black landscape as Jørgensen, I tip my hat to the strong poetic imagery that characterizes Dråberne 5, 7, 8, and 11 – especially on the album’s longest track, the dramatic »Hul – Dråberne 7«. As Jørgensen muses on the luminous melancholy of the inner city, the music becomes a transformation, a sphere of change made of ambient surfaces, muted strings, and a female vocal that slips in like a shadow—until the song rises in dramatic momentum, centering on the line »En nat i indre kvarter«.

The music is primarily grounded in piano-heavy terrain, where Botes’ keys find repose in muted pedal strikes and light strings. Only in rare moments do the compositions break free, as on the opener »Glemsel – Dråberne 5«, where chamber orchestra and jazzy breakbeats create a compelling and almost cinematic atmosphere.

Dråberne 5, 7, 8, and 11 is a seductive, inspiring, and downright sumptuous experiment in which the love between the two artists can be felt in every tone. If this is Jørgensen’s career winter, I will gladly accept more dark, warm moments.