I samarbejde Goethe-Institut Dänemark, Københavns og Roskilde Universitet inviterer Seismograf/DMT til seminar tirsdag den 3. juni kl 16-18 Teater Repulique i forbindelse med Klangfestivalen 2014.

Ved seminaret " Modernisme, politik og det stedsspecifikke" har vi inviteret Dr. Kersten Glandien, Musikkritikeren Henrik Friis og komponisten Johannes Kreidler. Dr. Kersten Glandien fortæller om lydkunstscenerne i Berlin fra 1970erne og frem til i dag. Musikkritikeren Henrik Friis spørger, hvad der skete den radikale tyske modenisme efter Lachenmann og Spahlinger. Svarene søges bl.a. gennem en analyse af Spahlingers betydning for den danske komponist Simon Steen-Andersen. Den tyske komponist Johannes Kreidler taler om de sidste 15 års udvikling i tysk ny musik og præsenterer sin analyse af periodens æstetiske, tekniske og diskursive forandringer. 

Seminaret er arrangeret og ledes af Sanne Krogh Groth (RUC, Seismograf/DMT) og Søren Møller Sørensen (KU). Det afholdes på engelsk og er blevet til i samarbejde med Goethe-Institut Dänemark.

Abstracts:

Dr. Kersten Glandien (Senior Lecturer, University of Brighton, UK):
"… too wide a field - SoundArt in Berlin"

This comment on the human condition by Theodor Fontane came frequently to my mind while researching the various facets of SoundArt in Berlin. Far from encountering ‘a scene’, I found myself facing a vast labyrinth of activities, artists, works, places, events, organisers and institutions, stretching back several decades.

In my paper I will attempt to give an insight into the extent and hybridity of Berlin Sound Art - from its beginnings in the 1970s under the special conditions of cold-war West Berlin, through the landmark-festivals and lively activities of the post-Wall period, down to its ubiquity and acceptance today. I will examine the main players, institutions, organisers and initiatives, trace the unusual political and cultural conditions that set the agenda in both parts of the city, outline the exciting process of fusion that followed - and examine the very different approaches taken to SoundArt in the city today and the aesthetic clusters they form.

Henrik Friis (Music critique, Politiken, DK):
"What happened to modernism?"

What happened to the strong modernist position in German music after Lachenmann and Spahlinger? Well, maybe it is alive and kicking – living on, for instance, as impossible timbre made by young Danish composers. With a strong advocate in the Berlin resident and Spahlinger student Simon Steen-Andersen.

A place to start is the search for a useful framework for the term modernism. The Spanish philosopher Ortega Y Gasset addresses the modernist position in European Art and Music in 1925 in his essay ‘The Dehumanization of the Arts’. He claims that, opposed to earlier epochs in the history of the arts, modern music is not unpopular, as in ‘not popular yet, but outspoken anti-popular. A search for modernism is in that sense a search for traces of thoughts of intellectual anti-popularism and dehumanization. Helmut Lachenman and Matthias Spahlingers music from the early 1970’s and onwards show some of the same alienating and non-popular characteristics. For instance the ‘Musique Concrete Instrumentale’ focuses the ear at the noise of the music production and continuously stops the listener from forgetting that the musical experience is in fact a musical construction. Or the Spahlinger concept of the endless beginnings. These intellectual traces are pursued in the recent music of Simon Steen-Andersen, i.e. the cd of 2010 ‘Pretty Sound’.

Johannes Kreidler (Composer, DE):
"New Music in Germany in the last 15 years."

Having started to become a professional composer towards the end of the 1990s, not only personally I've made my artistic development, but also in general I can draw an overview now on a period of time of which I think has made quite a shift, aesthetically, technically, discursively.

Fakta
Seminar. Klangfestivalen
Tirsdag den 3. juni kl 16-18
Teater Repulique, Østerfælled Torv 37, 2100 København Ø

in brieflive
29.10

Islands Of Sound Rising From the Sea

Athelas Sinfonietta: »Nordic Sounds«
© Kasper Vindeløv
© Kasper Vindeløv

Veroníque Vaka’s ongoing project to pin some of earth’s most momentous geological processes down in notated music is proving beguiling. The latest fruit was premiered on Saturday at Nordatlantens Brygge. Eyland (»Island«) was inspired by the formation of the island of Surtsey, which appeared 33km of Iceland’s coast on 14 November 1963 following a volcanic eruption.

Much of the Canadian-Icelandic composer’s work charts decline; its musical movement tracing harvested data around ecological destruction and decay. Eyland is about creation, and Vaka seemed to revel in the wonder and grandeur of it. The 15-strong Athelas Sinfonietta sounded with the sweep of a symphony orchestra under Bjarni Frímann and Jónas Ásgeir Ásgeirsson’s solo accordion like the emergent island itself, edging up from the spray with magnificent, slow force.

Some of the other five pieces in this concert focusing on music of the North Atlantic could feel like a ritualistic preparation for Vaka’s – a testament to the composers’ focus more than their lack of weight. Around the clear long lines of Eli Tausen a Láva’s Álvan are distinctive North Atlantic sparkle and harmonic depth; Daníel Bjarnason’s Skelja is a miniature sonic romance between harp and percussion and Friðrik Margrétar-Guðmundsson's Fikta a smudged chorale, played with shamanistic intensity by Ásgeirsson. Anna Thorvaldsdottir’s Entropic Arrows focused the mind with its threading of long string tendrils from out of frantic wind and percussion action.  

The other premiere was Aya Yoshida’s Song of the Voice – a non-vocal echo of the Faroese song tradition for cello and ensemble in which, at one point, you hear a chain-dance ratcheting round. The work is not without some imagination and effectiveness, but it was made to sound incoherent and unfocused by what surrounded it here. 

in brieflive
29.10

What Do the Mad Want With an Opera House?

OperaHole: »screen (mad scenes)«
© PR
© PR

Denmark is lacking opera houses, a recent call in Politiken declared. And indeed: with only a single major, rather conservative opera house, we don’t quite make our mark on the grand stage. On the other hand, we can boast a flourishing opera life on the stages outside the established institutions. And with the Copenhagen music collective OperaHole, a new player has now entered the field.

Last week, the two singers and artistic directors Litha Ashforth and Daniel Rosenberg, both raised in the United States, presented OperaHole’s first production: a kind of surprise egg consisting of Rosenberg’s own character study recursion for two actors, the mad scene from Donizetti’s Lucia di Lammermoor, and Peter Maxwell Davies’ 8 Songs for a Mad King – all three performed in one continuous flow in a white commercial film studio.

What was interesting, of course, was the juxtaposition of a short play, a classical scene, and one of the most abrasive monodramas of the last 60 years. The thematic common denominator was madness: Rosenberg, a so-called spieltenor with a wide range and comic talent, first skewered devilish variations of latte-drinking Copenhageners in his play, before coloratura soprano Ashforth slipped in wearing a white chemise soaked in blood and sang Donizetti with nimble desperation and a soft sweetness, accompanied by flute and piano.

Finally came the monodrama with Rosenberg as the mad king, staged as a social-media workshop in which the performance was commented on in a livestream (LeaHan1997: »Not this again«!) and screenshots were pasted together into memes in real time. It was spirited – musically as well – but insular, and the work itself disappeared in the process.

Once the collective’s youthful enthusiasm for new media has settled, OperaHole nevertheless looks like a strong contender to carry on our tradition of playful underground opera.

English translation: Andreo Michaelo Mielczarek

in briefrelease
24.10

JASSS Tears the Cellophane Off Electronic Music

JASSS: »Eager Buyers«
© PR
© PR

The sound of Eager Buyers is as intense as crackling cellophane – and just as revealing. It’s as if all musical labels have been stripped away, leaving behind a raw, unfiltered sonic world where genres dissolve and everything becomes possible. The Berlin-based Spanish producer JASSS forges her sound in a punkish alloy of electronic music, industrial, EDM, and rock-inspired guitar riffs.

Her third album is a rebellion against conformity and expectation. To label JASSS is nearly impossible – unless the label is cool. In the complex rhythmic compositions, where traces of bitcrush are balanced by melancholic harmonies and subtle hints of medieval-core on the track »Sand Wrists«, we enter a universe that is at once nostalgic and adventurous – and at the same time simmering with the energy of Berlin’s nightlife.

Eager Buyers is magnetic – even for listeners who don’t normally inhabit the electronic realm. The album carries a clear narrative, driven by a dark, almost theatrical energy. JASSS turns toward a world she perceives as »malnourishing« – as she phrases it through song titles like »Hollow« and »The Mob Expects Malnutrition«. Yet the melodrama has a tinge of irony: there’s something disarmingly sarcastic about it all, as if Eager Buyers is ultimately about the disillusioned modern human.

JASSS rattles the cellophane of the musical packaging we usually call genres, reminding us that music, too, is a product to be sold and bought. Eager Buyers is an album that refuses to be wrapped up – and precisely for that reason, it’s worth buying.

English translation: Andreo Michaelo Mielczarek

»Music, to me, is true luxury and has always been an opening into a language without constricting categories, with room for both intimacy and impact. I don’t have a single tone in life, but I wish I did. When I work, music is a warm room I can barricade myself in, an ally that keeps me on track—not least in a time as destructive as the one we are in now. It can be a connection to difficult emotions, but also an excuse for a kitchen dance that makes me forget the world and myself. I actually constantly long for a new soundtrack (and more dancing), but if I’m completely honest, I’m also quite happy to take off the headphones and listen—not least to the non-human world’s differently calming compositions: all the other voices that we must include in the choir if there is to be human song and music in the future.«

C.Y. Frostholm (b. 1963) is a writer and visual artist who has published poetry and prose since 1985 and worked visually since 1991, including with photography, digital, and visual poetry. Together with composer Hans Sydow, he released the album Mellem stationerne back in 2000. Earlier this year, he took part in the exhibition Hybris! at Galleri Image in Aarhus, based on his latest book, Til den ven jeg aldrig har kendt (2023).

in brieflive
18.10

One Tone, Eight Breaths, and the Sound of Waiting

Elisa Kragerup, Louise Alenius, Vokalensemblet ÆTLA and others: »The Emperor of Portugalia«
© PR
© PR

Only one actor appears on stage in The Emperor of Portugalia – surrounded by eight singers. In Elisa Kragerup’s tightly choreographed staging, Louise Alenius’ a cappella composition becomes a physical experience where breath and movement merge into one. The acoustic soundscape interacts eerily quietly with the deafening, mechanical noises that arise when, for instance, beams of light are raised and lowered on stage. It feels as if the relentlessness of existence here briefly finds a sonic expression that captures Selma Lagerlöf’s intentions.

The sparse – or rather ascetic – soundscape, together with the humble peasant costumes, reflects the harsh, monotonous life of a Swedish village before the world turned modern. And the plot? A poor farmer worships his daughter, but when she leaves for Stockholm as a young woman and never returns, his years of yearning drive him, in a Don Quixote-like fashion, to believe himself emperor of the imaginary land of Portugalia, with his daughter naturally imagined as its ruler. The father’s longing borders on madness, while the daughter’s neglect or thoughtlessness ultimately turns against her: in a Godot-like manner, he waits and waits for her – just as she, after his drowning, waits for him, unable to find his body.

The piece is carried by an almost unbroken drone in the choir (produced through collective breathing) – a single sustained tone that, as an artistic device, illustrates how music in theatre can be so minimal that sound itself becomes the message, and the absence of a musical narrative becomes the point. »One tone played beautifully is enough,« Arvo Pärt once said. Except that here, the tone is sung – and in this work, his statement is affirmed in the most radical way: a maximal expression achieved through minimal means, realised with striking precision by Vokalensemblet ÆTLA.

English translation: Andreo Michaelo Mielczarek