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
A One-Way Ticket To Illiyeen, Please!
Illiyeen is visual artist Eliyah Mesayer’s fictional state for the stateless, a group to which the artist herself belonged until just a few years ago. Since 2019, she has continuously added national symbols in Illiyeen’s characteristic black color, and today the state has its own postal service, national anthem, uniform, navy – and a steadily expanding list of collaborators.
It’s a clever concept, at once tightly defined and completely open. Because the state is nomadic and collective, it can arise anywhere and include a wider circle of like-minded artists, such as Angel Wei from Haloplus+ and the poet Zahna Siham Benamour. It is a state of mind.
At Den Frie, it was the drum duo Thicket – Adam »CCsquele« Nielsen and Dan Kjær Nielsen – who performed from opposite sides of a split drum kit. Through an improvised drum solo so energetic that drumsticks flew through the air, they explored the shared rhythm that emerged, broke apart, and shifted character along the way. A fitting symbol of Illiyeen’s community: a constant negotiation and coordination of tempo and movement.
Along the way, the toms gave way to a recorded sound piece, a spherical electronic composition with subdued spoken word woven into the soundscape. The work originated from an earlier installation but was extended for the occasion, with added acoustic elements recorded by Cæcilie Trier and Xenia Xamanek. It carried a mournful, sensitive vibe that stood in sharp contrast to the thundering intensity of the drums. Mesayer’s poetic, black-clad universe and Thicket’s simultaneously tight and improvisational energy bursts blended perfectly into a community one longed to be part of.
English translation: Andreo Michaelo Mielzcarek
Gąsiorek Never Looks Back
Polish-born Szymon Gąsiorek has done it again – created a cornucopia of an album that both overwhelms and delights with its endless wealth of eclectic ideas, styles, and sound sources. As is often the case with this kind of release, where each track has its own distinct identity, personal favorites quickly emerge.
One clear favorite announces itself right away. The opening track, »TAK TAK NIE NIE«, explodes with an energy reminiscent of early Boredoms – a heavy dose of noise rock with shouted vocals, electric guitar, saxophone, gunshots, screams, synths, piano, and more. The third track, »STRACH LĘK NIEPOKÓJ«, also shines with a zeuhl-like momentum driven by militaristic vocals, insistent drums, jagged guitar, and saxophone. And even beyond the most immediately impressive tracks, Polofuturyzm is so packed with highlights and playful surprises that even half of it would have sufficed. Take, for example, »90s [NADZIEJA]«, featuring a trancey synth quickly and effectively sabotaged by free jazz-style drums and saxophone, or »JEDNOKIERUNKOWY«, which sounds like classic disco polo thrown in a blender and mixed with pitch-shifted vocals and clubby keyboards. Not to forget the eight-second slapstick piano flourish on »RĘCE«.
Polofuturyzm is driven by a manic refusal to ever look back. The only constant is the absence of consistency. Gąsiorek has been here before, but it still feels just as radical and refreshing.
English translation: Andreo Michaelo Mielczarek
Composition for Stone Walls
The contrast is striking when, on the hottest day of the year, you step down from the green lawns of Søndermarken into the underground world of the Cisterns, Copenhagen’s old water reservoir. The humidity is high, the light sparse, and stalactites hang from the vaulted ceilings, casting shadows in the puddles on the floor. And then there is the sound: in the empty columned halls, the reverberation can last up to 17 seconds. Even the slightest scrape echoes down here.
Since 2016, the Cisterns have functioned as an exhibition space, and this year Jakob Kudsk Steensen has transformed the halls into an underwater landscape of video projections, sculptural objects, and a soundscape created by Lugh O’Neill featuring Bjarke Mogensen on accordion. Mogensen, who is performing this evening, has a versatile taste. Perhaps a bit too versatile, I think to myself as I read the evening’s program, which spans from Bach to folk melodies from Bornholm. It turns out to hold together better than one might expect. These are compositions that seem to stretch time itself, where long tones – amplified and extended by the reverberation – form a murky foundation for short, pearling attacks, like marble balls ricocheting off a stone wall.
A shimmering, sorrowful composition by Nick Martin, inspired by Michelangelo’s Pietà – marble again – is followed by a meditation on echo among the cliffs of Bornholm by Frederiksberg-based composer Martin Lohse. Another piece rises slender and sacred like high vaults, while Mogensen’s own Passage crackles, snaps, and crunches like stones being broken. Mogensen’s accordion is in constant dialogue with the space; he calls, and the dark colonnades answer back – or is it the other way around?
The audience sits petrified, completely absorbed in the sound, as Mogensen masterfully makes his instrument sound like everything from a rapid breath to a thunderclap. When we finally emerge, heavy clouds hang over Søndermarken, and the heat is gone. The park feels transformed. The contrast is tangible.
English translation: Andreo Michaelo Mielczarek
Kristine Tjøgersen Crafts Unreasonably Beautiful Eco-Poetry
The wildlife of nature is both beautiful and playful – especially in Kristine Tjøgersen’s music. At the center of her new album Night Lives is the wild, unpredictable life of the night beyond the human domain. The album was created as part of the Ernst von Siemens Prize, which Tjøgersen recently received as the first Norwegian composer ever to do so.
The album is a seven-movement sonic version extracted from a staged work premiered at the Ultima Festival in 2023, and it works perfectly well as a standalone, semi-acoustic version performed by the Cikada Ensemble. The music ranges from playful, experimental, rhythmical soundscapes—full of rattling and crackling instruments – to intense, pulsating passages. Tjøgersen possesses a uniquely sensitive understanding of instrumental timbre, allowing her to morph seamlessly between acoustic and electronic worlds, cultural environments, and eras. From a simple, extended flute solo to a dancing computer universe – without blinking an eye.
Forty to fifty years ago, it was called postmodernism when old music appeared in new compositions as reused material. Back then, it made sense because many people had a mental library of historical classical music, a reflective space in which all new music was interpreted. Today, audiences’ minds are different. For example, Kristine Tjøgersen can easily use a completely straightforward Baroque movement as the album’s conclusion – serving as a starting point for music that gradually thins out and dissolves into a stunningly beautiful utopian world of acoustic strings and synthesizer. Without making you feel she is negotiating your sense of past and present. Natural sounds, imitations of nature, harmonies, and entire sequences are simply building blocks in her personal experimental lab. And what a lab it is!
English translation: Andreo Michaelo Mielczarek
When the Experiment Becomes Tragically Beautiful
Normally, I avoid quoting press releases directly, but this description of the intimate and multifaceted Confluencia is hard not to echo. On this album, the Danish guitarist and experimentalist has assembled a small ensemble of musicians from the borderlands between neoclassicism and jazz. The real stars of the record are pianist Simon Toldam and – especially – Susana Santos Silva, whose trumpet bleats, breathes, and scrapes against the ear. She toots in ways rarely heard in postmodern experimentalism.
Confluencia seeks to reflect modern communication – a kind of communication that ought to transcend boundaries of race, gender, and other dividing forces – through instrumental music. A form that seems to be fading day by day in a haze of misinformation, miscommunication, and mistrust. Toldam’s piano leans toward eerie dissonance, while Solborg’s guitar adds a tender, almost vulnerable tone – especially on »Southern Swag«. The music is at its strongest when the instruments converge in conversation and unison moments, such as in the strange funeral ballad »Planes«, which teeters on the edge of collapse with ghostly piano figures and diabolical chimes.
Confluencia moves between jazz, folk, ambient, and avant-garde – with a chamber-like intimacy that insists on intensity, melancholy, and reflection. What makes the album truly powerful is precisely what many experimental releases lack: space for contemplation and dialogue with the listener. Tungemål dares to be experimental without overpowering itself – and paints with a broad emotional brush, where tragedy is always lurking on the horizon.
English translation: Andreo Michaelo Mielczarek