Work in progress, thoughts, black holes and parachuting in space.
After spending gradually less and less time on social media over the past couple of years, I have decided to start blogging. I enjoy sharing some of my thoughts with the outside world – it sometimes feel as if my head will either implode or blow up if I don´t – but I never felt quite at home doing so on social media. One thing is the distraction from the addictive, algorithm—driven urge to constantly checking how many *likes* my posts would get, something I am completely unable to resist, another thing is the somewhat lengthy nature of my writing habits making the fastfood-like layout of social media feeds not so well suited for my online presence (but still - I will share a link to blogposts on my FB artistside - oh no, the likes, the likes, they keep haunting me!).
I will blog mostly about my work as a composer in ongoing projects, sharing thoughts on both the music itself and about different aspects of the music as seen in a wider context. I tend to embrace a philosophical approach to sound and music, and I think A LOT about what the music I make might mean in a wider context, and about what the wider context – wider meaning everything from myself to the rest of the biosphere and beyond – might mean to the music I make.
I have already shared some shorter blog posts about the work I am making now – EXTINCTION SOUNDS (commissioned by the wonderful festival TronTalks). This is the first longer essay about the process of making this music. A process that is still very much going on. Perhaps my time would be better spent composing as the work should be finished in a few weeks’ time, but I really want to write words right now and therefore I decided write this text rather than music. As there is little time to revise my writings I apologize for any misspellings and structural weaknesses the text might have – this is a “first-take” window into my mind, an improvised writing session if you like. Still, I hope it will make an interesting read for those interested! (btw; I decided to keep the text, as well as the other content on my site, in English. I realize most people visiting, or at least most people that will listen to the premiere of EXTINCTION SOUNDS, will be Norwegian speaking. But I do hope there are also some people around the world visiting my site every now and then and would like for everyone to be able to read and follow my work. Perhaps one day I will make the site in both languages, but for now there is neither enough time nor money to do so).
So, onwards to Extinction Sounds – from now on called ES (btw; already I believe my point about social media not being the ultimate platform for my writings is becoming evident). RORAIMA, my previous large work, was inspired by the sound of the Amazon rainforest, and to a large extent driven by a strong feeling of solidarity with both non-humans and humans living in the rainforest. This opened for the inclusion of texts by Yanomami-shaman Davi Kopenawa in the work. Not as an uttered musical ingredient during concerts, but rather as a philosophical backdrop for the music in many ways, shared with the audience in a written pamphlet and in the album liner notes. I first read these texts, in the book The Falling Sky, during the initial covid lockdown in Oslo in March 2020. The texts that got me the most was describing the Yanomami creation myth, and other spiritual aspects of their interaction with the rainforest. Reading these texts awoke a strange and uncanny feeling of shared experience, something forgotten but still very much part of myself, a shared experience of interconnectedness and “being together with”. You may read the texts, as well as the rest of the booklet, here.
The central theme of the RORAIMA is based on this feeling of interconnectedness, and the idea of examining the concept of solidarity – the main theme of Oslo World in 2020 (the festival Oslo World commissioned the work) – as something that vibrates not only between human beings but also between humans and non-humans. I believe this feeling of solidarity needs to be at the very core of human interaction with planet Earth. Such solidarity is evident in the way indigenous peoples interact with their surroundings. 12000 years (since the agricultural revolution) has increasingly widened the gap between humanity at large and the rest of the living world. But deep down, I believe the core feeling of solidarity and interconnectedness from when we were all hunter-gatherers is still there. This is not to romanticize the way human beings have spent the vast majority of their existence on planet earth. I appreciate living in a house, science, modern medicine, and the fact I do not risk being eaten on a daily basis. But I believe all of that, as well as many other aspects of our moderns lives, may still, and should, be built from a platform of solidarity with non-humans, and – as follows naturally – ecological balance.
Puh. Now, ES (Extinction Sounds). ES sort picks up the central idea in RORAIMA, but in a much more personal setting focused on myself (oh no!), and my childhood (an even bigger oh NO!). The work is inspired by my memory of the sound of the forests in Rendalen where I gre up, You may read more about this aspect of ES here.
How to make art from such a sentimental starting point? Suffice to say, it has been no walk in the park. Rather, it has been a bit like parachuting in empty space.
John Cage once said: “When you start working, everybody is in your studio- the past, your friends, enemies, the art world, and above all, your own ideas- all are there. But as you continue painting, they start leaving, one by one, and you are left completely alone. Then, if you are lucky, even you leave.”
I have been lucky enough to experience the “even you leave” – moment at least a few times in my life. For me, this is the moment where the work starts unfolding itself, where the continuation of my ideas just happens without my own conscious decisions getting in the way. It is a strange and wonderful thing, and I do not realize it has happened before it is over. Sort of, you don´t miss yourself while you are gone, but when you realize you have left, there you are.
I can tell you, that this kinds of “leaving”, when the work in question is about your own childhood and all kinds feelings connected to it, is really hard. Leaving requires some kind of initial distance to the work. But where do you go when the work is about you? It´s like I have been stuck on the event horizon of a black hole, clinging to the edge somehow, being inside the black whole and outside at the same, not falling, and not escaping. But then suddenly, yesterday - after 6 months of clinging – suddenly I fell into the hole!! Is it a good thing? Only time will tell. But I left, for the first time. Ahhh, what a wonderful feeling!
Speaking of feelings. Feelings is the main theme for TronTalks this year. In addition to making ES and being the festival musician / composer, I am also the festival profile of the year. This means I get to give an opening speech, and participate in different talks during the festival with a host of amazing people. I am looking very much forward to it all, stay tuned for more news/thoughts soon!
Now, back to composing! Perhaps this time, if I am lucky, I will escape the event horizon as Hawking radiation! Just need to make sure the bass does not fall in…