#daniel-bjarnason — Public Fediverse posts
Live and recent posts from across the Fediverse tagged #daniel-bjarnason, aggregated by home.social.
-
#MissyMazzoli *1980
Sinfonia (for Orbiting Spheres)
#hrSinfonieorchester
#DaníelBjarnason#contemporarymusic #womencomposers #musik #music #musique #musica #Mazzoli
-
#MissyMazzoli *1980
Sinfonia (for Orbiting Spheres)
#hrSinfonieorchester
#DaníelBjarnason#contemporarymusic #womencomposers #musik #music #musique #musica #Mazzoli
-
#MissyMazzoli *1980
Sinfonia (for Orbiting Spheres)
#hrSinfonieorchester
#DaníelBjarnason#contemporarymusic #womencomposers #musik #music #musique #musica #Mazzoli
-
#MissyMazzoli *1980
Sinfonia (for Orbiting Spheres)
#hrSinfonieorchester
#DaníelBjarnason#contemporarymusic #womencomposers #musik #music #musique #musica #Mazzoli
-
#MissyMazzoli *1980
Sinfonia (for Orbiting Spheres)
#hrSinfonieorchester
#DaníelBjarnason#contemporarymusic #womencomposers #musik #music #musique #musica #Mazzoli
-
Hafsteinn Gunnar Sigurðsson – „Fearless Flyers“ (2023)
Flugangst ist eine intime Angelegenheit. Menschen, die sie nicht kennen, halten sie oft für eine Marotte. Menschen, die sie kennen, wissen, dass es kein „Reiß dich zusammen“ gibt. Ich hatte mal so einen Chef. Mit ihm zu fliegen, war für beide von uns ein Flug durch die Hölle. Und Alkohol war keine Lösung! Das Nervensystem beschleunigt schon, noch bevor der Verstand an Bord geht. Hafsteinn Gunnar Sigurðssons „Fearless Flyers“ ist der seltene Film, der das versteht – und es schafft, darüber zu lachen, ohne die Menschen mit Angstzuständen zur Lachnummer zu machen. (ARTE, Neu!)
-
Hafsteinn Gunnar Sigurðsson – „Fearless Flyers“ (2023)
Flugangst ist eine intime Angelegenheit. Menschen, die sie nicht kennen, halten sie oft für eine Marotte. Menschen, die sie kennen, wissen, dass es kein „Reiß dich zusammen“ gibt. Ich hatte mal so einen Chef. Mit ihm zu fliegen, war für beide von uns ein Flug durch die Hölle. Und Alkohol war keine Lösung! Das Nervensystem beschleunigt schon, noch bevor der Verstand an Bord geht. Hafsteinn Gunnar Sigurðssons „Fearless Flyers“ ist der seltene Film, der das versteht – und es schafft, darüber zu lachen, ohne die Menschen mit Angstzuständen zur Lachnummer zu machen. (ARTE, Neu!)
-
Hafsteinn Gunnar Sigurðsson – „Fearless Flyers“ (2023)
Flugangst ist eine intime Angelegenheit. Menschen, die sie nicht kennen, halten sie oft für eine Marotte. Menschen, die sie kennen, wissen, dass es kein „Reiß dich zusammen“ gibt. Ich hatte mal so einen Chef. Mit ihm zu fliegen, war für beide von uns ein Flug durch die Hölle. Und Alkohol war keine Lösung! Das Nervensystem beschleunigt schon, noch bevor der Verstand an Bord geht. Hafsteinn Gunnar Sigurðssons „Fearless Flyers“ ist der seltene Film, der das versteht – und es schafft, darüber zu lachen, ohne die Menschen mit Angstzuständen zur Lachnummer zu machen. (ARTE, Neu!)
-
Hafsteinn Gunnar Sigurðsson – „Fearless Flyers“ (2023)
Flugangst ist eine intime Angelegenheit. Menschen, die sie nicht kennen, halten sie oft für eine Marotte. Menschen, die sie kennen, wissen, dass es kein „Reiß dich zusammen“ gibt. Ich hatte mal so einen Chef. Mit ihm zu fliegen, war für beide von uns ein Flug durch die Hölle. Und Alkohol war keine Lösung! Das Nervensystem beschleunigt schon, noch bevor der Verstand an Bord geht. Hafsteinn Gunnar Sigurðssons „Fearless Flyers“ ist der seltene Film, der das versteht – und es schafft, darüber zu lachen, ohne die Menschen mit Angstzuständen zur Lachnummer zu machen. (ARTE, Neu!)
-
Hafsteinn Gunnar Sigurðsson – „Fearless Flyers“ (2023)
Flugangst ist eine intime Angelegenheit. Menschen, die sie nicht kennen, halten sie oft für eine Marotte. Menschen, die sie kennen, wissen, dass es kein „Reiß dich zusammen“ gibt. Ich hatte mal so einen Chef. Mit ihm zu fliegen, war für beide von uns ein Flug durch die Hölle. Und Alkohol war keine Lösung! Das Nervensystem beschleunigt schon, noch bevor der Verstand an Bord geht. Hafsteinn Gunnar Sigurðssons „Fearless Flyers“ ist der seltene Film, der das versteht – und es schafft, darüber zu lachen, ohne die Menschen mit Angstzuständen zur Lachnummer zu machen. (ARTE, Neu!)
-
After realizing that the last two albums I had listened to both had “II” in the title (that is, the Roman numeral for 2), I casually asked Mastodon for recommendations of more albums with “II” in the title…and I promptly got 30 dumped in my lap. I then realized that we have a handful of albums in The List that meet this very random but simple criterion. And so, I thought that, as an easy way to pick the next albums to write-up, I’d go through our II albums. So, here we are, a new series called “Too Much To Listen To”, but, you know, with “II”s. And, obviously, these posts will only go up on a Tuesday – or, as the kids say,* “II-sday”. ((*No kids say this.))
Before turning to our first II, I wanted to say that I think it’s interesting we have so many IIs for a list of must-hear albums. Are these IIs more representative of the band’s sound? Are they better than their predecessors (the “I”s)? Or were the submitters simply thinking “hehe, that’s how we’ll get them!”, knowing that the curious listener would need to at least listen to the “I”s as well? And, why do so many bands name an album “II”? Is it laziness or marketing genius? A hint that it may be more of a contract fulfillment thing, or a product of a rather successful writing process during the previous album?
Well, in this series, we’ll be taking a look at both the II that is in The List, and the I that is not, to see if we can guess what the sitch is with each pair. In the last post of the series, I’ll also include the list of all the other II albums that Mastodonians recommended but aren’t officially on The List.
So, our first II album is the neoclassical Epicycle II by multi-instrumentalist Gyða Valtýsdóttir, founding member of múm (who is also on The List); the album is number 403 on The List, and was submitted by yours truly (Mastodon handle: buffyleigh).
Epicycle II has become one of my go-to albums throughout the pandemic. Though not released until the end of August 2020, it was my most-listened-to album that year, and, out of all the other fantastic albums in my Top Albums of 2020 list, it remains my most-listened-to album of 2020. It has such a magical feel to it, in part due to the help of Gyða’s fellow Icelanders, including Jónsi and Kjartan Sveinsson of Sigur Rós, Anna Thorvaldsdóttir, Ólöf Arnalds, Skúli Sverrisson, Úlfur Hansson, Daníel Bjarnason, and María Huld Markan Sigfúsdóttir, among others. The track “Liquidity”, featuring Kjartan on piano, is one of those breathtaking songs that is a journey in itself, a song that I swear I can visualize Gyða singing and playing her cello in my mind, though I’ve never seen a video of her performing it. It instantly calms my brain, and I’ve been known to skip right to it, and then keep hitting the back button to replay the track over and over and over…
And so, how does Epicycle II connect to the first Epicycle? Well, on the surface, other than both being very lovely, the two albums don’t obviously connect at all. Epicycle, released in 2016, is a bit of a concept album, a collection of songs and composers from 100AD to 1970 that have influenced Gyða musically, including pieces from Schubert, Schumann, and Hildegard von Bingen; Epicycle II, on the other hand, are all songs written either by Gyða or by the artist she collaborates with on that track. Perhaps because it is a collection, Epicycle feels like a compilation, while Epicycle II has a lovely cohesive flow to it. Epicycle is primarily just Gyða on her cello, while Epicycle II features a lot more instrumentation (including electronic work) and, as mentioned above, a LOT of collaborators. Epicycle is quite light on vocal work, while Epicycle II is full of it.
The connection, perhaps, lies in the list of collaborators. My hunch is that including and featuring all these contemporary musicians simply continues the list of Gyða’s musical influences from the first Epicycle, but this time closer to home, in terms of both time and location. And it’s this that makes Epicycle II stand above Epicycle for me – the musical talent that comes out of Iceland is mindboggling, and II gives us just a taste of what is going on there right now. At any rate, listening to Epicycle before Epicycle II is not required, and I can’t promise that you’ll like the other if you like one of them; however, I’d definitely recommend taking a listen to both.
- Bandcamp: Gyða Valtýsdóttir – Epicycle II
- Discogs: Gyða Valtýsdóttir – Epicycle II
- Bandcamp: Gyða Valtýsdóttir – Epicycle
- Discogs: Gyða Valtýsdóttir – Epicycle
#1001OtherAlbums #2020s #AnnaThorvaldsdóttir #ÓlöfArnalds #ÚlfurHansson #DaníelBjarnason #GyðaValtýsdóttir #Iceland #IIMuchIIListenII #Jónsi #KjartanSveinsson #MaríaHuldMarkanSigfúsdóttir #neoclassical #SkúliSverrisson
-
After realizing that the last two albums I had listened to both had “II” in the title (that is, the Roman numeral for 2), I casually asked Mastodon for recommendations of more albums with “II” in the title…and I promptly got 30 dumped in my lap. I then realized that we have a handful of albums in The List that meet this very random but simple criterion. And so, I thought that, as an easy way to pick the next albums to write-up, I’d go through our II albums. So, here we are, a new series called “Too Much To Listen To”, but, you know, with “II”s. And, obviously, these posts will only go up on a Tuesday – or, as the kids say,* “II-sday”. ((*No kids say this.))
Before turning to our first II, I wanted to say that I think it’s interesting we have so many IIs for a list of must-hear albums. Are these IIs more representative of the band’s sound? Are they better than their predecessors (the “I”s)? Or were the submitters simply thinking “hehe, that’s how we’ll get them!”, knowing that the curious listener would need to at least listen to the “I”s as well? And, why do so many bands name an album “II”? Is it laziness or marketing genius? A hint that it may be more of a contract fulfillment thing, or a product of a rather successful writing process during the previous album?
Well, in this series, we’ll be taking a look at both the II that is in The List, and the I that is not, to see if we can guess what the sitch is with each pair. In the last post of the series, I’ll also include the list of all the other II albums that Mastodonians recommended but aren’t officially on The List.
So, our first II album is the neoclassical Epicycle II by multi-instrumentalist Gyða Valtýsdóttir, founding member of múm (who is also on The List); the album is number 403 on The List, and was submitted by yours truly (Mastodon handle: buffyleigh).
Epicycle II has become one of my go-to albums throughout the pandemic. Though not released until the end of August 2020, it was my most-listened-to album that year, and, out of all the other fantastic albums in my Top Albums of 2020 list, it remains my most-listened-to album of 2020. It has such a magical feel to it, in part due to the help of Gyða’s fellow Icelanders, including Jónsi and Kjartan Sveinsson of Sigur Rós, Anna Thorvaldsdóttir, Ólöf Arnalds, Skúli Sverrisson, Úlfur Hansson, Daníel Bjarnason, and María Huld Markan Sigfúsdóttir, among others. The track “Liquidity”, featuring Kjartan on piano, is one of those breathtaking songs that is a journey in itself, a song that I swear I can visualize Gyða singing and playing her cello in my mind, though I’ve never seen a video of her performing it. It instantly calms my brain, and I’ve been known to skip right to it, and then keep hitting the back button to replay the track over and over and over…
And so, how does Epicycle II connect to the first Epicycle? Well, on the surface, other than both being very lovely, the two albums don’t obviously connect at all. Epicycle, released in 2016, is a bit of a concept album, a collection of songs and composers from 100AD to 1970 that have influenced Gyða musically, including pieces from Schubert, Schumann, and Hildegard von Bingen; Epicycle II, on the other hand, are all songs written either by Gyða or by the artist she collaborates with on that track. Perhaps because it is a collection, Epicycle feels like a compilation, while Epicycle II has a lovely cohesive flow to it. Epicycle is primarily just Gyða on her cello, while Epicycle II features a lot more instrumentation (including electronic work) and, as mentioned above, a LOT of collaborators. Epicycle is quite light on vocal work, while Epicycle II is full of it.
The connection, perhaps, lies in the list of collaborators. My hunch is that including and featuring all these contemporary musicians simply continues the list of Gyða’s musical influences from the first Epicycle, but this time closer to home, in terms of both time and location. And it’s this that makes Epicycle II stand above Epicycle for me – the musical talent that comes out of Iceland is mindboggling, and II gives us just a taste of what is going on there right now. At any rate, listening to Epicycle before Epicycle II is not required, and I can’t promise that you’ll like the other if you like one of them; however, I’d definitely recommend taking a listen to both.
- Bandcamp: Gyða Valtýsdóttir – Epicycle II
- Discogs: Gyða Valtýsdóttir – Epicycle II
- Bandcamp: Gyða Valtýsdóttir – Epicycle
- Discogs: Gyða Valtýsdóttir – Epicycle
#1001OtherAlbums #2020s #AnnaThorvaldsdóttir #ÓlöfArnalds #ÚlfurHansson #DaníelBjarnason #GyðaValtýsdóttir #Iceland #IIMuchIIListenII #Jónsi #KjartanSveinsson #MaríaHuldMarkanSigfúsdóttir #neoclassical #SkúliSverrisson
-
After realizing that the last two albums I had listened to both had “II” in the title (that is, the Roman numeral for 2), I casually asked Mastodon for recommendations of more albums with “II” in the title…and I promptly got 30 dumped in my lap. I then realized that we have a handful of albums in The List that meet this very random but simple criterion. And so, I thought that, as an easy way to pick the next albums to write-up, I’d go through our II albums. So, here we are, a new series called “Too Much To Listen To”, but, you know, with “II”s. And, obviously, these posts will only go up on a Tuesday – or, as the kids say,* “II-sday”. ((*No kids say this.))
Before turning to our first II, I wanted to say that I think it’s interesting we have so many IIs for a list of must-hear albums. Are these IIs more representative of the band’s sound? Are they better than their predecessors (the “I”s)? Or were the submitters simply thinking “hehe, that’s how we’ll get them!”, knowing that the curious listener would need to at least listen to the “I”s as well? And, why do so many bands name an album “II”? Is it laziness or marketing genius? A hint that it may be more of a contract fulfillment thing, or a product of a rather successful writing process during the previous album?
Well, in this series, we’ll be taking a look at both the II that is in The List, and the I that is not, to see if we can guess what the sitch is with each pair. In the last post of the series, I’ll also include the list of all the other II albums that Mastodonians recommended but aren’t officially on The List.
So, our first II album is the neoclassical Epicycle II by multi-instrumentalist Gyða Valtýsdóttir, founding member of múm (who is also on The List); the album is number 403 on The List, and was submitted by yours truly (Mastodon handle: buffyleigh).
Epicycle II has become one of my go-to albums throughout the pandemic. Though not released until the end of August 2020, it was my most-listened-to album that year, and, out of all the other fantastic albums in my Top Albums of 2020 list, it remains my most-listened-to album of 2020. It has such a magical feel to it, in part due to the help of Gyða’s fellow Icelanders, including Jónsi and Kjartan Sveinsson of Sigur Rós, Anna Thorvaldsdóttir, Ólöf Arnalds, Skúli Sverrisson, Úlfur Hansson, Daníel Bjarnason, and María Huld Markan Sigfúsdóttir, among others. The track “Liquidity”, featuring Kjartan on piano, is one of those breathtaking songs that is a journey in itself, a song that I swear I can visualize Gyða singing and playing her cello in my mind, though I’ve never seen a video of her performing it. It instantly calms my brain, and I’ve been known to skip right to it, and then keep hitting the back button to replay the track over and over and over…
And so, how does Epicycle II connect to the first Epicycle? Well, on the surface, other than both being very lovely, the two albums don’t obviously connect at all. Epicycle, released in 2016, is a bit of a concept album, a collection of songs and composers from 100AD to 1970 that have influenced Gyða musically, including pieces from Schubert, Schumann, and Hildegard von Bingen; Epicycle II, on the other hand, are all songs written either by Gyða or by the artist she collaborates with on that track. Perhaps because it is a collection, Epicycle feels like a compilation, while Epicycle II has a lovely cohesive flow to it. Epicycle is primarily just Gyða on her cello, while Epicycle II features a lot more instrumentation (including electronic work) and, as mentioned above, a LOT of collaborators. Epicycle is quite light on vocal work, while Epicycle II is full of it.
The connection, perhaps, lies in the list of collaborators. My hunch is that including and featuring all these contemporary musicians simply continues the list of Gyða’s musical influences from the first Epicycle, but this time closer to home, in terms of both time and location. And it’s this that makes Epicycle II stand above Epicycle for me – the musical talent that comes out of Iceland is mindboggling, and II gives us just a taste of what is going on there right now. At any rate, listening to Epicycle before Epicycle II is not required, and I can’t promise that you’ll like the other if you like one of them; however, I’d definitely recommend taking a listen to both.
- Bandcamp: Gyða Valtýsdóttir – Epicycle II
- Discogs: Gyða Valtýsdóttir – Epicycle II
- Bandcamp: Gyða Valtýsdóttir – Epicycle
- Discogs: Gyða Valtýsdóttir – Epicycle
#1001OtherAlbums #2020s #AnnaThorvaldsdóttir #ÓlöfArnalds #ÚlfurHansson #DaníelBjarnason #GyðaValtýsdóttir #Iceland #IIMuchIIListenII #Jónsi #KjartanSveinsson #MaríaHuldMarkanSigfúsdóttir #neoclassical #SkúliSverrisson
-
After realizing that the last two albums I had listened to both had “II” in the title (that is, the Roman numeral for 2), I casually asked Mastodon for recommendations of more albums with “II” in the title…and I promptly got 30 dumped in my lap. I then realized that we have a handful of albums in The List that meet this very random but simple criterion. And so, I thought that, as an easy way to pick the next albums to write-up, I’d go through our II albums. So, here we are, a new series called “Too Much To Listen To”, but, you know, with “II”s. And, obviously, these posts will only go up on a Tuesday – or, as the kids say,* “II-sday”. ((*No kids say this.))
Before turning to our first II, I wanted to say that I think it’s interesting we have so many IIs for a list of must-hear albums. Are these IIs more representative of the band’s sound? Are they better than their predecessors (the “I”s)? Or were the submitters simply thinking “hehe, that’s how we’ll get them!”, knowing that the curious listener would need to at least listen to the “I”s as well? And, why do so many bands name an album “II”? Is it laziness or marketing genius? A hint that it may be more of a contract fulfillment thing, or a product of a rather successful writing process during the previous album?
Well, in this series, we’ll be taking a look at both the II that is in The List, and the I that is not, to see if we can guess what the sitch is with each pair. In the last post of the series, I’ll also include the list of all the other II albums that Mastodonians recommended but aren’t officially on The List.
So, our first II album is the neoclassical Epicycle II by multi-instrumentalist Gyða Valtýsdóttir, founding member of múm (who is also on The List); the album is number 403 on The List, and was submitted by yours truly (Mastodon handle: buffyleigh).
Epicycle II has become one of my go-to albums throughout the pandemic. Though not released until the end of August 2020, it was my most-listened-to album that year, and, out of all the other fantastic albums in my Top Albums of 2020 list, it remains my most-listened-to album of 2020. It has such a magical feel to it, in part due to the help of Gyða’s fellow Icelanders, including Jónsi and Kjartan Sveinsson of Sigur Rós, Anna Thorvaldsdóttir, Ólöf Arnalds, Skúli Sverrisson, Úlfur Hansson, Daníel Bjarnason, and María Huld Markan Sigfúsdóttir, among others. The track “Liquidity”, featuring Kjartan on piano, is one of those breathtaking songs that is a journey in itself, a song that I swear I can visualize Gyða singing and playing her cello in my mind, though I’ve never seen a video of her performing it. It instantly calms my brain, and I’ve been known to skip right to it, and then keep hitting the back button to replay the track over and over and over…
And so, how does Epicycle II connect to the first Epicycle? Well, on the surface, other than both being very lovely, the two albums don’t obviously connect at all. Epicycle, released in 2016, is a bit of a concept album, a collection of songs and composers from 100AD to 1970 that have influenced Gyða musically, including pieces from Schubert, Schumann, and Hildegard von Bingen; Epicycle II, on the other hand, are all songs written either by Gyða or by the artist she collaborates with on that track. Perhaps because it is a collection, Epicycle feels like a compilation, while Epicycle II has a lovely cohesive flow to it. Epicycle is primarily just Gyða on her cello, while Epicycle II features a lot more instrumentation (including electronic work) and, as mentioned above, a LOT of collaborators. Epicycle is quite light on vocal work, while Epicycle II is full of it.
The connection, perhaps, lies in the list of collaborators. My hunch is that including and featuring all these contemporary musicians simply continues the list of Gyða’s musical influences from the first Epicycle, but this time closer to home, in terms of both time and location. And it’s this that makes Epicycle II stand above Epicycle for me – the musical talent that comes out of Iceland is mindboggling, and II gives us just a taste of what is going on there right now. At any rate, listening to Epicycle before Epicycle II is not required, and I can’t promise that you’ll like the other if you like one of them; however, I’d definitely recommend taking a listen to both.
- Bandcamp: Gyða Valtýsdóttir – Epicycle II
- Discogs: Gyða Valtýsdóttir – Epicycle II
- Bandcamp: Gyða Valtýsdóttir – Epicycle
- Discogs: Gyða Valtýsdóttir – Epicycle
#1001OtherAlbums #2020s #AnnaThorvaldsdóttir #ÓlöfArnalds #ÚlfurHansson #DaníelBjarnason #GyðaValtýsdóttir #Iceland #IIMuchIIListenII #Jónsi #KjartanSveinsson #MaríaHuldMarkanSigfúsdóttir #neoclassical #SkúliSverrisson
-
After realizing that the last two albums I had listened to both had “II” in the title (that is, the Roman numeral for 2), I casually asked Mastodon for recommendations of more albums with “II” in the title…and I promptly got 30 dumped in my lap. I then realized that we have a handful of albums in The List that meet this very random but simple criterion. And so, I thought that, as an easy way to pick the next albums to write-up, I’d go through our II albums. So, here we are, a new series called “Too Much To Listen To”, but, you know, with “II”s. And, obviously, these posts will only go up on a Tuesday – or, as the kids say,* “II-sday”. ((*No kids say this.))
Before turning to our first II, I wanted to say that I think it’s interesting we have so many IIs for a list of must-hear albums. Are these IIs more representative of the band’s sound? Are they better than their predecessors (the “I”s)? Or were the submitters simply thinking “hehe, that’s how we’ll get them!”, knowing that the curious listener would need to at least listen to the “I”s as well? And, why do so many bands name an album “II”? Is it laziness or marketing genius? A hint that it may be more of a contract fulfillment thing, or a product of a rather successful writing process during the previous album?
Well, in this series, we’ll be taking a look at both the II that is in The List, and the I that is not, to see if we can guess what the sitch is with each pair. In the last post of the series, I’ll also include the list of all the other II albums that Mastodonians recommended but aren’t officially on The List.
So, our first II album is the neoclassical Epicycle II by multi-instrumentalist Gyða Valtýsdóttir, founding member of múm (who is also on The List); the album is number 403 on The List, and was submitted by yours truly (Mastodon handle: buffyleigh).
Epicycle II has become one of my go-to albums throughout the pandemic. Though not released until the end of August 2020, it was my most-listened-to album that year, and, out of all the other fantastic albums in my Top Albums of 2020 list, it remains my most-listened-to album of 2020. It has such a magical feel to it, in part due to the help of Gyða’s fellow Icelanders, including Jónsi and Kjartan Sveinsson of Sigur Rós, Anna Thorvaldsdóttir, Ólöf Arnalds, Skúli Sverrisson, Úlfur Hansson, Daníel Bjarnason, and María Huld Markan Sigfúsdóttir, among others. The track “Liquidity”, featuring Kjartan on piano, is one of those breathtaking songs that is a journey in itself, a song that I swear I can visualize Gyða singing and playing her cello in my mind, though I’ve never seen a video of her performing it. It instantly calms my brain, and I’ve been known to skip right to it, and then keep hitting the back button to replay the track over and over and over…
And so, how does Epicycle II connect to the first Epicycle? Well, on the surface, other than both being very lovely, the two albums don’t obviously connect at all. Epicycle, released in 2016, is a bit of a concept album, a collection of songs and composers from 100AD to 1970 that have influenced Gyða musically, including pieces from Schubert, Schumann, and Hildegard von Bingen; Epicycle II, on the other hand, are all songs written either by Gyða or by the artist she collaborates with on that track. Perhaps because it is a collection, Epicycle feels like a compilation, while Epicycle II has a lovely cohesive flow to it. Epicycle is primarily just Gyða on her cello, while Epicycle II features a lot more instrumentation (including electronic work) and, as mentioned above, a LOT of collaborators. Epicycle is quite light on vocal work, while Epicycle II is full of it.
The connection, perhaps, lies in the list of collaborators. My hunch is that including and featuring all these contemporary musicians simply continues the list of Gyða’s musical influences from the first Epicycle, but this time closer to home, in terms of both time and location. And it’s this that makes Epicycle II stand above Epicycle for me – the musical talent that comes out of Iceland is mindboggling, and II gives us just a taste of what is going on there right now. At any rate, listening to Epicycle before Epicycle II is not required, and I can’t promise that you’ll like the other if you like one of them; however, I’d definitely recommend taking a listen to both.
- Bandcamp: Gyða Valtýsdóttir – Epicycle II
- Discogs: Gyða Valtýsdóttir – Epicycle II
- Bandcamp: Gyða Valtýsdóttir – Epicycle
- Discogs: Gyða Valtýsdóttir – Epicycle
#1001OtherAlbums #2020s #AnnaThorvaldsdóttir #ÓlöfArnalds #ÚlfurHansson #DaníelBjarnason #GyðaValtýsdóttir #Iceland #IIMuchIIListenII #Jónsi #KjartanSveinsson #MaríaHuldMarkanSigfúsdóttir #neoclassical #SkúliSverrisson
-
@classicalmusic
@womencomposers#JórunnViðar 1918 - 2017
Eldur /Fire/, ballet music (1950)
#IcelandSymphonyOrchestra
#DaníelBjarnason#musik #music #musique #musica #classicalmusic #womencomposers #modernistmusic #Viðar
-
@classicalmusic
@womencomposers#JórunnViðar 1918 - 2017
Eldur /Fire/, ballet music (1950)
#IcelandSymphonyOrchestra
#DaníelBjarnason#musik #music #musique #musica #classicalmusic #womencomposers #modernistmusic #Viðar
-
@classicalmusic
@womencomposers#JórunnViðar 1918 - 2017
Eldur /Fire/, ballet music (1950)
#IcelandSymphonyOrchestra
#DaníelBjarnason#musik #music #musique #musica #classicalmusic #womencomposers #modernistmusic #Viðar
-
@classicalmusic
@womencomposers#JórunnViðar 1918 - 2017
Eldur /Fire/, ballet music (1950)
#IcelandSymphonyOrchestra
#DaníelBjarnason#musik #music #musique #musica #classicalmusic #womencomposers #modernistmusic #Viðar
-
@classicalmusic
@womencomposers#JórunnViðar 1918 - 2017
Eldur /Fire/, ballet music (1950)
#IcelandSymphonyOrchestra
#DaníelBjarnason#musik #music #musique #musica #classicalmusic #womencomposers #modernistmusic #Viðar
-
Composer Daníel Bjarnason: ‘Surrounded by people you may still be utterly alone’
On 14 April the Irish Crash Ensemble was to play the Dutch premiere of Songs by the Icelandic composer Daníel Bjarnason. The cycle was commissioned by Muziekgebouw Eindhoven and Concertgebouw Amsterdam, where it would be repeated on April 15. Both concerts were cancelled because of Covid-19.
Bjarnason (1979) composed Songs for the Crash Ensemble and the Swedish performer Mariam Wallentin, and I interviewed him while he was still working on it. The cycle was premiered in incomplete form on 28 February at the New Music Dublin festival. The online Journal of music rated it ‘one of the standout concerts’.
Poetic background
Ireland and Iceland both have a long history, in which poetry plays an important role. No surprise then the Crash Ensemble asked Bjarnason to compose a new song cycle for them. On their website they announced it floridly: ‘We went to the land of the ice and snow to ask for music. Returning with the promise of songs with a Wildbird. Needing words for our songs, we asked one who broke waves, and he gave them with two hands.’
The ‘Wilbird’ refers to Mariam Wallentin, who has a reputation to lose as an experimental singer, percussionist, composer and voice actress. In 2007 she formed the duo Wildbirds & Peacedrums with her husband Andreas Werliin, with whom she released several successful cd’s. The epithet ‘one who broke waves’ refers to Royce Vavrek, whose poems Bjarnason set to music.
Off the beaten tracks
The Icelandic composer and conductor likes to step off the beaten tracks in classical music and previously worked with the band Sigur Rós and pop musicians/ producers like Brian Eno and Ben Frost. The Crash Ensemble has the same adventurous spirit, entering into partnerships with composers, universities, skateboarders and cinematographers. Bjarnason: ‘When I said I wanted to write for Mariam Wallentin, they agreed without hesitation. Their only request was I write for their complete line-up of string quintet, flute, (bass) clarinet, trombone, electric guitar, piano and percussion.’
Bjarnason has known Mariam Wallentin for a long time: ‘I’ve been following her for about ten years, and we worked together once before, when she sang one of my Three Larkin Songs. I first got to know her through her band Wildbirds and Peacedrums and was immediately drawn to her voice and her singing. She has quite a dark timbre, which I find really beautiful, and I admire her sense of rhythm and articulation. Moreover she is very versatile.’
Mutual exploration
While composing the two worked closely together: ‘I sent her my music and she would answer with recordings of her singing, which was very useful and helpful. Also during rehearsals we constantly exchanged ideas. That’s exactly how I want it to be: a collaboration and a mutual exploration.’
The lyrics were written by the Canadian poet Royce Vavrek, much lauded for his libretti for the opera’s Breaking the Waves and Song from the Uproar by Missy Mazzoli. Though Bjarnason and Vavrek had already been discussing plans for an opera, the choice was not self-evident. ‘It was a long search, because I wanted to work with new lyrics. And only when Royce came in view my creative inspiration started flowing.’
However, since Bjarnason is becoming increasingly busy as a conductor, he was not quite able to meet the deadline for his new cycle. When I interviewed him a few days before the world premiere on 28 February in Dublin, he had only finished four of the intended six to seven songs. The premiere of the complete cycle was set for April in the Netherlands.
Cold and dark
Though Songs is very different from Three Larkin Songs, the subject matter is connected in some ways, says Bjarnason. ‘The overall theme is quite broad but I would say that it is about living in cold and dark atmospheres. In Northern latitudes, in isolation, loneliness and even depression. It’s about growing up in remote places where being different is not accepted. Where, surrounded by people you are still utterly alone.’
He hastens to add, though: ‘I must stress that the songs are not only gloomy, they also deal with connecting and finding warmth in that chilly environment.’ The main difference between the two cycles lies in their scale and scope. The Three Larkin Songs on texts by the British poet Philip Larkin are set for string quintet, piano and vocals and last only about fifteen minutes. The new cycle is three times as long and calls for a singer and an eleven-piece ensemble.
Shifting colours
The premiere of the complete Songs will (hopefully) take place in the coming season, so we can’t judge for ourselves, but the review in the Journal of music is quite promising: ‘Bjarnason’s musical language drifted seamlessly between jazz and trip rock without ever quite settling in any style definitively. His writing for each member of the ensemble was intricate and resulted in a backing texture of constantly shifting colours and complexity that perfectly intertwined with Wallentin’s sultry, soulful singing.’
#CrashEnsemble #DaníelBjarnason #MariamWallentin #RoyceVavrek