Showing posts with label Oslo. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Oslo. Show all posts

Sunday, 11 April 2021

Voice & Strings & Timpani

Emotionally charged experimentalism.

 

When it comes to art, culture, and especially music, it's said we live in bland and unadventurous times, most often by people who hanker after after a supposed golden age. Anyone with a willingness to listen outside of their own comfort zone will know this is not the case however. Thankfully there are scores of musicians and labels releasing music that's non-conformist, passionate, at times challenging, but that has the all-important ability to move hearts and minds.

One such record label with a consistently high standard is Hubro Records, a record label based in Norway whose back catalogue contains often unclassifiable music that skirts the edges of classical, modern jazz, electronica, folk, and even Sousa, yet belongs to no singular camp. The records Hubro release belong to their own category. Experimental in nature yet highly engaging and always with a deep emotional core.

A recent example is this eponymous long-player by Voices & Strings & Timpani. It's the latest project by guitarist Stephan Meidell and drummer Øyvind Hegg-Lunde, two musicians who have a long-standing relationship with Hubro and the wider Scandinavian experimental music scene. This album is a perfectly recorded suite of tracks, made all the more remarkable when one considers that a large part of it was recorded live at Bergen's Nattjazz Festival in 2016.

Opening track 'Cashmere' washes in with evocative swoops of harp over an insistent electronic pulse before wordless vocals and bluesy guitar add to the drama. I'm loathe to use the word journey but there's a sense that you're about to be taken somewhere. 'Escargot' follows, driven by a repeated bass line, it features French language vocals from the Mari Kvien Brunvoll and Eva Pfitzenmaier. My rudimentary, rusty French won't allow for a full translation but I guarantee you're unlike to hear a more engaging song about a snail anytime soon. It eventually drifts out with bursts of slide guitar. It's as if the soundtrack to Paris, Texas has been reimagined in some far off parallel universe.

'Swarming strings Made Out Of Light' sees the vocals switch to English, but are half-buried beneath a barrage of percussion. Three songs in and it's becoming clear that Voice & Strings & Timpani is a genre-free zone, though it's disparate tracks are held together by a uniformed sense of purpose between the musicians involved. And so it continues throughout the rest of the record. 'Laxevaag' containing percussion that sound like ticking clocks, added noise that could be dogs barking, and a textural layering of keyboards. It's a simultaneously disorientating and meditative.

'Community' is a short folksy interlude featuring effects laden vocals and flutes. It gives way to the epic emotional electronic beats of 'Talk Tick Talk'. Much like the album's cover, an abstract photo of oil on water, the music is fluid, ever shifting, and though it's primary colours don't change much, the way they're put together does. It's a strange yet and enchanting record, one that deserves the undivided attention of a one-sitting headphone listen, and one that will have you finding more with each listen.

Sunday, 6 October 2019

Jo Berger & Ólafur Björn Ólafsson - Lanzarote


Minimal emotive improvisations from the far north.


The story as to how these two musicians based in the far north, (Berger hails from Norway, Ólafsson from Iceland), have come to title their latest work after an island situated off Africa's west coast is both moving and multi-pronged. Firstly their fascination for the island, with its beaches, mountains and volcanic desert landscape, took root during visits there to perform. There is also a literary association - the island is used by French novelist Michel Houellebecq in his 2005 book, The Possibility of an Island, as the setting for a cult dedicated to finding eternal life. Again Berger and Ólafsson's shared interest in the author's work is something that has informed their new album. The most resonant association with the island however is the most poignant. It was the last place Ólafsson saw his friend, fellow Icelandic composer Jóhann Jóhannsson, only a few months before his passing, having travelled there to play a show together in a cave.

The first piece of music on Lanzarote is 'Grain Of Sand'. It's dedicated to Jóhannsson and sets the emotional tone for much of what follows. Based around an improvised sparse notes from upright piano and double bass, there's a distinctly Nordic melancholic aspect to the piece. The fact that you can hear the creak of the piano pedals adds to the feeling of being in the room as the music is being recorded. It encourages a sense of stillness, and calm, quiet reflection.

The rest of the album similarly encourages the listener to explore their own inner head-space. The music is minimal, with unobtrusive overdubs of percussion, Farfisa organ, Moog synthesizer, and brass. There are no attention grabbing moves or motifs, no bells and whistles. This is not music that grabs you by the lapels and demand you listen. It's an altogether more delicate approach, conversely one that's is more effective. The audience for this may be a niche one, but that's in no way a measure of this music's subtle power and far-reaching emotional impact.


Click here for Hubro Records.