SPECIAL OFFER: For € 22 I’ll add Fe-mail’s legendary double album Blixter Toad.

Punctuating the rest of the album are traditional Norwegian radical songs, a couple of national anthems for now-defunct countries (the GDR, USSR), Cyndi Lauper’s “True Colors” and some very brief, very volcanic reinterpretations of Minor Threat’s “Seeing Red.” The Lauper in particular I find quite poignant, as Nystrøm’s soprano sax oh-so-tenderly traces the melody in the air like a declaration of love spelled out in the sky in puffy clouds. And in the context of revolutionary music that surrounds it, “True Colors” comes across as a way to refract the nationalist impulse to codify individual colors and arrangements of colors – whether in flags or in movements – into the more accurate realm of emotional understanding: “true” colors. Also of special note is the setting of the traditional Norwegian song about a street kid, “Gategutt,” to the tune of Mingus’ “Fables of Faubus” – an intuitively astute combination that gorgeously and engagingly blends righteous political music from across the globe.

Wach Auf! (ØRA FONOGRAM OF019) was sent to us in October 2011. Here the great Norwegian musician, composer and one half of the noise band Fe-Mail Maja S.K. Ratkje reveals she has yet another astonishing talent, her remarkable singing prowess. Backed by the Norwegian combo POING, she sings her way through 15 songs which all have a revolutionary or socialist theme. At first I thought this was a modernist “classical” record of some ilk, a forgiveable error perhaps as it contains not a few renditions of songs from the Kurt Weill / Bertolt Brecht catalogue, but there’s also plenty of other unlikely material fit to stir your Marxist zeal and have you itching to join the barricades. Rudolf Nilsen was apparently a radical activist in 1920s Norway; two of his poems are here, ‘Street Boy’ and ‘Revolution Calling’. Hans Eisler, the Viennese contemporary of Brecht, is also represented, notably by his ‘Solidarity Song’ which he co-authored with Brecht. There’s a downtrodden miner’s song (credited to Trad.) that wouldn’t have been out of place in Woody Guthrie’s mouth, and even Minor Threat, the 1980s American radical hardcore guitar band, enjoy a brief acoustic rendering. Mostly though, it’s the pre-war turmoil of Berlin that sets the scene for the album, and I expect it’s these radical interpretations of the Brecht-Weill material that I’ll keep coming back to this for. So much for the choice of repertoire which is mostly impeccable for hewing to the left-wing theme, though I can’t quite fathom out what ‘True Colours’, the soppy 1980s Cyndi Lauper hit, is doing here. Even the cover design gets in on the act, with diagonals, red blocks, monochrome photos emulating the somewhat earlier graphic design forms of Berlin Dada and (even earlier) Russian Konstruktivism. Wouldn’t Chris Cutler have loved this record? Not sure, but he rightly supported Dagmar Krause’s similar-ish LPs of Brecht-Eisler-Weill songs, the incomparable Supply and Demand and Tank Battles, both from 1986.

Ratkje and the boys have been doing this since 2000, when they first covered Brecht and Weill and started playing a commie-inspired night of songs once a year in a decrepit little pub in Oslo. The Norwegian pinkos turned up in droves, and the the nights expanded to include speeches, poetry readings, and folk song; hopefully it didn’t turn into a debating society. It took the band 12 years to get around to getting this collection into wax, but it’s a corker of an album. Yes, Ratkje truly shines as a songstress, but it’s a collaborative set all the way; Rolf-Erik Nystrøm on woodwinds, Frode Haltli on accordion and trombone, Håkon Thelin on the bass; all the guys sing too. I’ve been listening to Weill’s music since 1978 (the way in for me was ‘Alabama Song’ by The Doors) and seem to recall reading that what the composer wanted was not traditional classical singers who were note-perfect, but actors who could sing; he wanted passion and blood in the song, and interpretation to enrich the meaning of the fiery lyrics. On that account, Ratkje and POING fill up the scorecard in nothing flat, winning the gold medal after just 2-3 tracks in. Especially effective is their lurid, excessive treatment of ‘Der Seeräuberjenny’, also known as ‘The Pirate Song’ (whose terrifying Black Freighter also loomed large in a subplot to Alan Moore’s Watchmen). In their hands, this song of pitiless, brooding vengeance is transformed into a violent, serial-killer snuff movie. The inhuman relish with which Ratkje intones (in German) ‘Kill Em All’ is a true shudderfest; she appears momentarily possessed with insane wrath.

The three instrumentalists meanwhile start off by delivering a highly entertaining form of super-fast cabaret music, played at intense speeds and with note-perfect vigour; soon it becomes clear what musical cosmopolitans they all are, and the album is infused with punk rock, folk music, klezmer, pop music, improvisation and free jazz. Not since bands like Ground-Zero have I heard this assured ability to turn a speeding song around in mid-career and tear down another musical side-road at 100 mph in pursuit of the “truth” of the song. You can keep your mannered John Zorn combos and his laboured attempts to meld hardcore guitar with Ornette Coleman. Nystrøm’s brief forays into atonal improvisation in the middle of a 1930s song are really something to savour; Evan Parker surfacing in the middle of a Marlene Dietrich clip.

I saw Ratkje with Fe-Mail supporting Wolf Eyes some years ago at the ICA in London. Amazingly, she’s about to tour the UK in March this year, with Ikue Mori; just four dates, one of which will be in London. She won’t be performing this material, but I would guess it’s going to be a memorable gig.

Ruben Sverre Gjertsen er en av landets fremste unge komponister, noe utgivelsen Gamelan Terrains bekrefter. Platen inneholder sju komposisjoner for ulike kammermusikkformater skrevet fra 1999 til 2009. Den nyeste er tittelsporet, en over 20 minutter lang komposisjon skrevet for ensemblet BIT20. Det klanglige slektskapet mellom stykkene er påfallende – vi skjønner at Gjertsen er en meget konsekvent lydskulptør.

Det problematiseres for lite rundt hva cd-formatet gjør med musikk som er så åpenbart knyttet til den visuelle konsertfremførelsen, som i tilfelle Gjertsens. Jo, man kan argumentere med at musikkens klanglige kvaliteter kan stå for seg selv, men når plateselskapet skriver i følgeteksten at «som lytter blir vi hensatt til en opplevelse som har mye til felles med både performance og installasjon», tolker jeg det som å referere til konsertopplevelsen snarere enn å ta utgivelsesformatet på alvor. Instrumenter i bevegelse, særlig om det benyttes nye spilleteknikker i velartikulerte gester, er definitivt noe å se på, og inngår i konsertopplevelsen.

Total. Musikk handler selvfølgelig om mer enn det spilletekniske, men hos Gjertsen er det mer enn vanlig integrert i musikken og uløselig knyttet til det klingende.

Utgiverne skriver: «Den totale innlevelse i lyd og lytting gjennomsyrer Rubens engasjement», og man hører seg gjennom lagene i musikken, oppdager nyanser, det trente øret lytter etter hvilke instrumenter som gjør hva, musikken har pauser og utbrudd, noen holdte klanger, men den går aldri «bananas».

Det er noe arkaisk over Gjertsens musikk, som jeg forbinder med en tydelig forankring i en post- og klang-serialistisk tradisjon med Pierre Boulez som bestefar, Salvatore Sciarrino og Helmut Lachenmann som snille onkler og Mathias Spahlinger som stefar. Det er for så vidt interessant, da det i dag virker som få norske komponister plasserer seg så tydelig i en sentraleuropeisk trend. Gjertsen er i så måte mer «med» enn de mest sentrale norske komponistene i generasjonene over ham (kanskje med unntak av Asbjørn Schaathun).

Jeg lytter innover, men det intense i lyttingen uteblir, selv det eruptive framstår som noe fjernt. Hvorfor kritiserer jeg ham for det? Når Gjertsen har som overordnet krav til musikerne: «Skap nærhet, ikke distanse», så får jeg følelsen av at dette kommer som en etterpåklok og litt fåfengt formaning. For det første fordi denne musikken allerede definerer seg innenfor et klassisk idiom hvor det låter distansert, med publikum på podielengdes avstand. For det andre fordi man av gode musikere i dag uansett forventer nærhet til musikken, selv om det er samtidsmusikk. Og er ikke egentlig en viss distanse sunt for å skape sammenheng i det episodiske og enkeltgestbaserte lydlandskapet?

Stemmen. Jeg liker best den kammermusikalske og (mikseteknisk) nære «Lied», selv om jeg føler at vokalen, til tross for enkelte perkussive utbrudd og frittstående utholdte støyklanger, blir for påtrengende klassisk og punktuell til å balansere med den mye mer ukonvensjonelle bruken av preparert piano. Man ønsker seg lengre linjer med varierende hastigheter. Stemmen, som er så fleksibel og har så enorme muligheter, burde virkelig være noe å bryne seg på for Gjertsen! Dette er likevel utgivelsens eneste radikale og mest egenartede verk.

Og resten? Gjertsens musikk er lunefull og er imponerende velskrevet. Det tonale oppleves som serielt, punktuelt og flyktig. Boulez’ musikk er til sammenligning mye tettere og villere. I forhold til Sciarrino er det klanglige minst like elaborert, men Gjertsen virker mindre konsistent.

Det er småproblematisk at de stykkene med færrest musikere er nærmere i miksen enn resten. I «Grains», platens avsluttende verk for harpe, bratsj og slagverk, blir close-up-følelsen påtrengende, men heldigvis hjelper det at Gjertsen lager fine forgrunn-bakgrunn-situasjoner. Gamelan Terrains låter flott, men litt utilnærmelig, og jeg savner mer originalitet. «Den totale innlevelse i lyd» uteblir for meg som lytter.

Made with voice and electronics, inspired by the sound of the mountain grouse.

Niet alle vrouwen komen van Venus

1 februari 2012

Vooruit, Gent

Door Koen Van Meel | Toegevoegd op 3 februari 2012

Twee dagen voor Jazz & Beyond Deluxe, editie februari 2012, had in Vooruit We Strike Back plaats, een dag waarop geprobeerd werd om “meer nuance te brengen” in de hele heisa rond de nationale staking van maandag 30 januari. Het eerste concert van woensdag leek wonderwel in de lijn te liggen van de deze actie. De Noorse zangeres Maja Ratkje en haar landgenoten van het instrumentale trio Poing brachten hun na jarenlang uitproberen, goed vormgegeven programma van politiek gekleurde muziek: van het volkslied van de DDR tot stukken uit de ‘Dreigroschenoper’ van Kurt Weill en Berthold Brecht.

Van deze samenwerking verscheen vorig jaar het album ‘Wach Auf!’ en de kwaliteit die op deze release te horen is, werd overtuigend vertaald naar het podium van Vooruit. In tegenstelling tot de rommelige, ironisch en vaak klungelige bindteksten (waarbij de muzikanten elkaar om de haverklap onderbraken, bijstuurden en becommentarieerden) bleef de muziek gespaard van sympathieke, maar ook wel erg gemakkelijke gebaren.

De muzikanten van Poing hebben een achtergrond in de hedendaagse muziek en de technische beheersing die ze daaraan overgehouden hebben, stelde hen in staat bewust en vrij met het vaak elementaire songmateriaal om te gaan. De knappe arrangementen bleven niet hangen in volkse meezingbaarheid, maar dwaalden af naar meer experimentele regionen, waarbij accordeon, bas en sax vaak een individuele rol toebedeeld kregen. In de begeleiding van ‘Vom Ertrunkenen Mädchen’ was te horen hoe klank belangrijker werd dan ritme of melodie en de verkorte, maar heel accuraat gespeelde versie van ‘Youkali Tango’ (zonder de stem van Ratkje) liet horen dat Rolf-Erik Nystrøm,
Frode Haltli en Håkon Thelin niet gekomen waren voor de gemakkelijke antwoorden.

Voor het overgrote deel van het programma kregen de muzikanten van Poing het gezelschap van Maja Ratkje. De elektronica liet ze, op een klein radiofonisch experimentje na, in de kast en ze liet zich vooral opmerken als vocaliste. Het was indrukwekkend om horen welke verschillende gedaantes er uit deze frêle dame tevoorschijn kwamen. Nu eens was ze operazangeres, dan weer kwam ze recht uit een groezelig cabaret gekropen of klonk ze als een sirene, zoals in het verstilde en bloedmooie ‘Mining For Gold’ dat ze, net als op cd, bracht in duet met de spokende bas van Håkon Thelin. Gebekt met een megafoon (‘Solidaritätslied’) werd ze een stakingsleidster die recht van de barricaden geplukt was, maar het was naar het einde van het optreden toe dat Ratkje pas echt zwaar uithaalde. De vocale effecten die ze in ‘Die Seeräuberjenny’ uit haar strot perste hadden niet misstaan in het straffere werk van Diamanda Galás en in ‘Der Song von Mandeley’ sloeg ze ritmisch aan het improviseren, alsof ze haar vocale inbreng met een sampler in stukken hakte, bewerkte en terug aan elkaar plakte. (…)

De relatie tussen Ratkje en Poing gaat al jaren terug: het trio was te horen op een album van de zangers en speelde al meerdere composities van Ratkje. Waar Ratkje voornamelijk bekendheid verwierf als improviserende muzikant (stem en elektronica), komt Poing uit de wereld van de hedendaagse gecomponeerde muziek. De technische beheersing van het accordeon-contrabas-saxofoon driemanschap is essentieel voor het resultaat op ‘Wach Auf!’ Het stelt hen in staat heel vrij om te gaan met het materiaal, waardoor ze het gemakkelijk vulgaire kunnen vermijden en de muziek niet opofferen aan de politieke lading.

Ratkje zet haar elektronica op een laag pitje (wat effecten op de stem en hier en daar wat concrete geluiden) en laat zich vooral horen als zangeres. Daarbij kan ze overtuigende cabaretprestaties neerzetten, maar ook geavanceerder uit de hoek komen. Zo mengen de muzikanten op ‘Wach Auf! cabaret met jazz en vrije improvisatie, op een overtuigende manier.

Soms blijven ze dicht bij de originele ideeën. De hymne van de DDR wordt breed en plechtstatig gespeeld waarbij de saxofoon voor de klaroenstoten zorgt. Op andere momenten marcheert het viertal of zweeft het als in een klassieke koraal.

Helemaal anders van opzet zijn de stukken waarbij geopteerd wordt voor een exact uitgewerkt arrangement, vaak met heel wat veranderingen in sfeer en kleur en in het ‘Solidaritätslied’ van Hanns Eisler zelfs met verschuivingen in het tempo. In ‘Der Song Von Mandaley’ haken de instrumentalisten mooi op elkaar in en integreren ze abstracte geluidseffecten, circus- en Balkanmuziek in het originele songmateriaal. Ook de aankleding van de klassieker ‘Seeräuberjenny’ wisselt geregeld van gedaante en ruimt plaats in voor vrije improvisatie.

Bijzonder mooi zijn de momenten waarop de muziek tussen de twee extremen blijft hangen: eenvoudig, maar heel verzorgd. Weills ‘Youkali Tango’ klinkt gestileerd mooi en ‘Vom Entrunkenen Mädchen’ krijgt een fragiel randje door het gespook van accordeon en contrabas. Op ‘Mining For Gold’ duikt zelfs de breekbare sfeer van Susanna and the Magical Orchestra op in een subtiel duet tussen Rakje en het gestapelde geluid van bassist Håkon Thelin.

Afsluiten doen Ratkje en Poing met het volkslied van de voormalige USSR. In het rechter kanaal is de muziek mooi en braaf te horen, in het linker wordt die verstoord door dissonanten en chaotische breuken. Of de communistische censuur deze “volkvreemde” interpretatie getolereerd zou hebben, valt te betwijfelen. Maar Ratkje en Poing hebben met ‘Wach Auf!’ dan ook duidelijk geen album gemaakt voor optochten of barricades. Voor hen geen hol hoerageroep. Er mag echt muziek gemaakt worden.

Maja Ratkje, música, cantante y artista noruega

¿Cuándo te enamoraste del sonido?
Siempre he tenido un gran interés en todos los sonidos que me rodean, incluso desde que era una niña. Solía copiar los de la naturaleza, aves, animales, máquinas, alarmas… Después comencé a tocar violín clásico y luego piano, lo que me llevó al mundo de los sonidos organizados, de la música. Después de aprender sobre música contemporánea, entendí que no existía una contradicción en traerlos de otras fuentes que no fueran instrumentos convencionales. Al inicio estaba impactada e inspirada cuando escuché por vez primera música electrónica de [Karlheinz] Stockhausen y Arne Nordheim. Esto me ayudó a decidirme a convertirme en una compositora de música contemporánea.

En proyectos como Fe-Mail se siente un espíritu dadá.

¿A qué te refieres? No hay un espíritu superficial en mi música, le toca juzgar al escucha. Quiero hacer algo hermoso y fuerte.

¿Qué esperas de tu primer concierto en la Ciudad de México?

Será la primera vez que actúe en México. Mis presentaciones en solitario son 100% improvisadas, así que nunca sé cómo será, pero tengo un buen sentimiento y escogí los instrumentos correctos, así que espero que sea algo extraordinario.

¿Trabajas en algún proyecto actualmente?

Estoy trabajando en una obra radiofónica para German Radio, esa una pieza nueva del Premio Nobel Elfride Jelinek, y compongo la música. Después haré una nueva ópera para bebés, la primera ha sido interpretada 150 veces y fue todo un éxito, a pesar de que es completamente abstracta, o tal vez por eso. También hay un filme en puerta [Sculpting Sound with Maja Ratkje], aquí está el tráiler: http://vimeo.com/17398880

Set aside the countless versions of “Mack the Knife,” which too often devolve into camp, and Bertolt Brech’s collaborations with Hans Eisler and Kurt Weill can provide a fertile launching point for improvisers. When done right, the core theatricality and harmonic complexity of the themes and the underlying inversions of scrappy dancehall meters offers up a balance of formal foundation and open framework. The most memorable projects have been undertaken by Europeans like Phil Minton, Willem Breuker, Mike Westbrook, Heiner Goebbels and Alfred Harth, and Dagmar Krause, though Hal Willner’s Lost in the Stars is certainly worth putting on the list. Add to this list a recent collaboration by the Norwegian trio Poing and vocal explorer Maja Ratkje.

Poing, consisting of double-bassist Håkon Thelin, saxophonist Rolf-Erik Nystrøm, and accordionist Frode Haltli, formed back in 1999 to perform contemporary composed music while also incorporating aspects of improvisation. The three are all conservatory trained but have extensive backgrounds in Norwegian Folk Music and free improvisation, which is evident in their playing. While they have developed an extensive book of compositions for their trio, they also have an ongoing collaboration with Ratkje, playing her own compositions as well as a program of music by Brecht/Eisler/Weill, which they have been performing at an annual concert on the night before May 1st, the International Workers’ Day, in the clubs of Oslo.

In their short artistic statement on the inside of the CD, the musicians state “The Red Revolution has a new face in our time. Is it progress or sentimentality? How can we, by caressing old idioms with contemporary lust and energy, suggest an inviting alternative to the egocentric postmodern capitalism and liberalism?” Those familiar with Ratkje’s music via groups like Spunk, fe-mail, or her duo with Lasse Marhaug will initially be in for a bit of a surprise. Her dark, vibrato-laden voice fully inhabits this music, moving through familiar pieces like “Der Morgenchoral Des Peachum,” “Der Song Von Mandelay,” and “Die Seeräuberjenny,” as well as pieces that are less familiar. Poing fill things out nicely: the orchestration of Haltli’s organ-like accordion is augmented by bass trombone and harmonium; Nystrøm’s lithe reed playing ranges from from snaking soprano to cantankerous alto interjections to klezmer-like clarinet; Thelin contributes a rich-bodied arco and rumbling bottom end.

The whole program caterwauls and swirls as the pieces fly by, melding into each other with quavering freely improvised intros and sputtering textural codas. Other than a resplendent extension of “Die Seeräuberjenny” and the instrumental extrapolation of “Youkall Tango,” the readings are compact. But this is not a tradition-bound take on things, as the four introduce themes from across the musical spectrum. On one end, there are Eisler’s “Nationalhymne Der DDR,” written in 1949 when East Germany became a Socialist country and “Gosudarstvenniy Gimn SSSR,” the State Anthem of the USSR, written around 1944; both are stripped of their pomp and played as stately melodies. Those are countered by the inclusion of two stomps through Minor Threat’s “Seeing Red,” a quirky take on the pop anthem “True Colors,” and a setting of Norwegian revolutionary poet Rudolf Nilsen’s “Street Boy” to Mingus’ “Fables of Faubus” thrown in for good measure. While faithful to the bones of Brecht’s compositions, the music is invested with loose wit, energy and invention.

In these socio-political times, this music could hardly be more relevant and this Norwegian group delivers the goods.

Record link

Přehrajte si celý příspěvek

Maja Solveig Kjelstrup Ratkje je nórska skadateľka, hudobníčka, a improvizátorka, ktorá sa radí medzi súčasnú špičku na poli experimentálnej hudby. Stretávam ju po jej koncerte na oslave 11tich narodenín časopisu HIS Voice, ktorý sa konal 8. Decembra v priestoroch Galerie NTK. Maja je jablko a počas pätnástich minút sa jej spýtam zopár otázok.

Váš album Voice vyšiel v roku 2003 a znamenal pre vás dosť veľký zlom. Ako ste sa odvtedy vyvinuli vy a vaša hudba ?

Spraviť album bola pre mňa veľmi prirodzená vec. V tom čase som cítila, že isť takýmto spôsobom do hlasu je nevyhnutné a že to musím spraviť. Čoraz viac ma priťahovali možnosti hlasu, jeho ambiguita a expresívnosť, schopnosť budovať viacero rovín rovin významu a zvuku. Album Voice bol ako výskumný projekt, ktorý mal tieto veci preskúmať. Spravila som ho s dvoma priateľmi, ktorí nemali klasické hudobné vzdelanie. Lasse Marhaug dokonca nevie ani čítať noty. Ja som zase prišla rovno z hudobnej akadémie a mala som za sebou už množstvo kompozicii. Bola to zaujimavá kombinácia ako skúsiť „počúvať” novým spôsobom.

Keď robíte takúto hudbu, ľudia ju prirovnávajú ku veciam, ktoré poznajú. Ak sa im páči pop, jediná vec, ktora je pre nich možno možno podobná tomu čo robím, je Bjork. Takže povedia „to znie ako Bjork” alebo „znie to ako hudba z hororov” alebo im to znie, ako by niekoho múčili. Sú to veľmi jednoduché vysvetlenia. Keď sa ale započúvajú, tak cítim, že ich viem dostať niekam, kde ešte neboli. Mám pocit, že tým ako používam hlas a elektroniku ich vťahujem do iného zvukového sveta. Že sa dostávame mimo jazyk a mimo zvuk.

Keď sledujem vaše živé vystúpenia, alebo počúvam vašu hudbu, mám pocit, že hlas je niečo bez čoho by sa vaša hudba nepohla.

Hlas je mojim primárnym zdrojom zvuku. Je to zároveň akési obmedzenie, ktoré som si sama určila. Dôraz je na hlase, ale niekedy sa stane, že vytiahnem harmoniku, a používam aj niekoľko oscilátorov. Pre mňa je dôležitá akási vzdialenosť, ktorú je možné získať prostredníctvom elektroniky. Je to otázka pôvodu zvuku. Spôsob akým odvrátiť pozornosť od pôvodcu hlasu ako osoby, a zameriať ju na vnímanie zvuku ako zvuku samého o sebe. Je to tradícia, ktorú je možne najst v musique concréte. Počúvať zvuk a nie objekt, ktorý ho produkuje. Pracovať s takýmto významom vzdialenosti v hudbe je prínosne, pretože vám to pomôže dostať sa von z ulity, ktorú tvori história, tradícia a očakávania. V hudbe nepracujete na dosiahnutí konkrétného cieľa alebo nájdení správnej odpovede. Niekedy možno hľadáte práve tu nesprávnu odpoveď.

Aký softvér používate počas vystúpenia ?

Používam množstvo rôznych vecí, ktoré každú chvíľu mením, pretože sa dokážem veľmi rýchlo sama znudiť. Momentálne je to program napísany v Csounde. Napísal ho môj kamarát, programátor a hudobník na základe toho, čo robím, keď improvizujem z množstvom škatuliek. Pomocou hlasu je možné spraviť tak úžasné veci, že človek k tomu nepotrebuje žiaden softvér. Môžte robiť skvelú hudbu aj pomocou diktafónu. Ten ktorý vlastním, je lacný šmejd a je to môj obľúbený nástroj.

Aké su vaše akustické projekty ?

Akusticky hrávam často. Dobrý príklad toho ako to znie, keď pracujem s hlasom akusticky je album ktorý som spravila s holandským zvukovým umelcom Jaapom Plonkom. Spravili sme vlastne dva, jeden elektronický a ten druhy akusticky. Akustický hlas často používam v SPUNK, musela som sa zdokonaliť v technike, skúšať, precvičovat sa, aby som ho mala silný. Je niečo špeciálne na tom, keď zvuky vytvárate sám, keď naozaj hráte na javisku a ste tam fyzicky. Hlas je vlastný telu, nemôžte nič predstierať. Ste tam a ste zodpovední za seba. Tato výzva sa mi páči a potrebujem ju.

Z vaších mnohých improvizačných kolaborácií je naznámejším projektom SPUNK.

SPUNK je niečo špeciálne, pretože od roku 1995 spolu neustále hráme. Vlastne sa už ani nemusíme rozprávať. Proste hráme. Ako skupina si navzájom absolútne vyhovujeme. SPUNK má svoj vlastný zvuk, je to samostatný organizmus. Niečo sa nám naozaj podarilo vytvoriť. Keď hráte s inými ľuďmi, samozrejme do toho vkladáte veľa vlastného. Vytvoríte niečo, čo je ako vaše hudobné dieťa, ale zároveň cudzie, nie úplne rovnaké ako vy. Ak ste totálne nervozní a máte strach, nieste schopní počúvať a polezú z vás len vaše vlastné klišé. V takom prípade improvizácia nefunguje.

Zdá sa ze vo vašej tvorbe je dosť zásadny Lasse Marhaug.

Stretli sme sa v roku kedy som končila školu. Jazzkammer ma požiadali, aby som spravila remix ich albumu. Poslala som im remix a boli z neho unesení. Potom sme požiadali Lasseho, či by nechcel spraviť remix pre SPUNK, v tom čase boli remixy asi celkom populárne. Keď som pripravovala album Voice napadla ma myšlienka, že ak by som požiadala Jazzkammer o koprodukciu, tak by to mohlo dopadnuť naozaj nezvyčajne. Ten nápad sa im páčil. S niektorými ľuďmi to funguje tak, že sa stretnete a viete, že toto je človek s ktorým sa dá pracovať. Takýto silný pocit som napríklad mala aj so SPUNK. Lasse Marhaug, nehrá na žiadne nástroje, ale napriek tomu je pre mňa dobrým príkladom hudobníka. Hrá fyzicky a keď vytvára zvuky, tak korešpondujú s jeho telesnými pohybmi.

V niektorých rozhovoroch sa vyjadrujete o pokroku a inovácií v hudbe. Čo to je ?

V prvom rade záleží na myšlienkách a nie na technológií. Vývoj vždy nastal, keď sa určité veci dali do nového kontextu. Nepracujem na tom vedome, nesnažím sa spraviť niečo nové. Robím len to, čo pokladám za zaujímavé. Neviem ani povedať, čo je to nové, pretože už nemám taký prehľad, čo sa deje v tomto smere. Ale čo sa týka pokroku, je to o snahe neustále posúvať hranice, napríklad vlastne konvencie, a očakávania publika. Hrala som na miestach, kde ľudia utekali preč, hneď ako počuli aj ten najmenší feedback. To sú veci s ktorými sa dá pracovať. Alebo je možné pracovať s tichom a vecami ktoré niesu hudbou, alebo sú niekde na pomedzi – napríklad prechod medzi zvukovou skúškou a koncertom. Tieto veci su naozaj zaujimavé.

Das Wohltemperierte SPUNK is a 12 year long project where we go through the twelwe tones of the well tempered tuning of the chromatic scale. J.S. Bach made his Wohltemperierte Klavier, a study of each note of the well tempered scale. We have made our own study by each year playing a single note.

Each concert time is a play with numbers: The first concert was 20.01.2001 20:01 (January 1. 2001 at 20:01), the second was 20.02.2002 20:02 (February 20. 2002 at 20:02) and so on. That means that the last concert will be held 20.12.2012 20:12 (December 20. 2012 at 20:12).

At each concert, we play the note for as long as it takes us to be finished with it.

The order of the notes follows the twelve-tone row made by Anton Webern for his “String Quartet opus 28″. This famous twelve-tone row starts with the notes B-A-C-H, and so suits our purpose quite beautifully.

Another aspect of Das Wohltemperierte SPUNK, is where each concert is held. It is always somewhere in Oslo, and we choose interesting or even strange places. We might even choose a place for it background noises, which we then perceive as a part of the music.

All concerts are recorded and will be released at the end of the project as a 12 CD box.

Concerts:

Part I: Emanuel Vigeland’s mausoleum.
Part II: A basement at Grünerløkka.
Part III: The mall Oslo City at the centre of Oslo.
Part IV: The Norwegian Nobel Institute.
Part V: St. Edmunds Church.
Part VI: A cabin at the island Nakholmen in the Oslo fjord.
Part VII: Outdoors at Akerselva, Oslo’s river.
Part VIII: On the roof of the new opera house in Oslo.
Part IX: Hønse-Lovisa’s cabin at Akerselva.
Part X: A living room in Brugata.
Part XI: Old Aker Church.

photos by Kai Holmen, 2006

This is a chamber opera. Can also be performed concertante. Onstage is the female singer, male actor, harpsichord and violin 1. The scenario is dark, only lit by candlelight, placed near the edge of the stage, and perhaps on the sides. Spread around are leftovers from a decadent Christmas party: empty bottles, food, confetti, etc. An off-stage piano is not visible. Grouped in three groups with three musicians in each, the rest of the ensemble forms a large half-circle behind the audience in the same order as from top to bottom of the score. They should be provided with note stand lights, as the room will be dark. The conductor should be as discret as possible.

The piece is commissioned by Trondheim Sinfonietta and Ny Musikk and first performed at Byscenen Dec. 17 with Anne-Lise Berntsen (mezzo), Trond Peter Stamsø Munch (reciter) and Trondheim Sinonietta conducted by Lars-Thomas Holm. Directed by Lisa Charlotte Baudouin Lie. Flanked by new pieces by Trygve Brøske/Tale Næss and Lasse Marhaug/Tom Løberg.

Programme text in Norwegian:

“Ein häppchen noch” foregår i en slags stillstand, eller adventestilstand om du vil, hvor vi ikke er helt sikker på hvilken retning vi skal ta. Sangeren og skuespilleren ser ikke hverandre, stemmene deres møtes gjennom teksten – som glir over fra tysk til norsk og engelsk. De to verdnene møtes såvidt i musikalske overlappinger, men uten å virkelig møtes. Kanskje en av dem tilhører en annen tid? Hva venter vi på? Står vi kanskje i veien for oss selv? Teksten antyder: Kanskje vi er flere enn: Jeg. Hei! Teksten ser seg til siden. Lytter til sidestillheten. Librettoen er skrevet i dialog med I Ging. Das Buch der Wandlungen, 52. GEN / Das Stillehalten, der Berg og http://www.rezepte-und-tipps.de/Weihnachtsrezepte/Truthahn.html (kalkun) og (gås) http://kochen.gofeminin.de/w/rezept/r1057/weihnachtsgaensebraten-mit-bratapfel.html.

First performed by Arne Kollandsrud Dec. 14 outside the home of Roald Amundsen. 100 years after his arrival at the South Pole.

On the record Pig Magic by Maranata.

Live recording from concert at Støyfest 2011.

7″: Lucky Forever b/w Pig Magic.

CD: 1. Pieces, 2. Gravity Connector, 3. Black Tongue Darshan

Track 3 features Maja S. K. Ratkje on vocals and noise, recorded live at Støyfest @ Podium Oslo May 7th 2011 by Kjetil Hanssen.

Movement: a musical term yet seldom does one truly get a sense of movement, as in aliveness, that one witnesses in our natural, or “real” world in art — that beautiful sense of chaotic activity of the kinetic street or beach or forest; wind, buses, excited children, birds flapping, branches swaying, fluorescents flashing, smoke, puddles; life. Often in artistic practice there is a solitary meditative focus that solidifies the work itself into a block. Even with the intention of making movement central to the work, be it with dance, film/video or diffused multichannel set up, the music itself can remain a block of sound, settled in the space like a thick fog. Its as if when a composer signs off on a work, be it to paper, recording or even a performance, be it improvised or the “slowed-down improvisation” of composition, it petrifies.

Comparatively, when listening to the never dormant music of the tremendously active self-defined “performing composer” Maja Solveig Kjelstrup Ratkje one experiences a sense of the vastness and detail of the living world. This is heightened when she is collaborating in duos and groups such as Fe-Mail and SPUNK.

This dual sense of vastness and detail in Ratkje’s work, and her self-proposed discipline “performing composer” can be seen as a drive towards inclusiveness. Journalists and critics attempt to create controversy when an artist claims more than one discipline or genre. The idea of restricting may come in useful as self-discipline, a way of achieving a specific and sought goal by and for the artist, but is of no help to the arts at large when imposed by theorists. Instrumentation, approach, and execution vary from project to project in Ratkje’s sound world. There is no acceptable reason anyone should be shocked by this, but eyebrows are nonetheless raised, especially, according to the artist/subject of this essay, no more than in the conservatory based composing community.

In turn this inclusiveness can be something seen as a central characteristic of the improvisational noise school of music, according to Ratkje, with its strong tradition of non-musicians, extended community, and so on. Though there is debate voiced by the San Francisco Bay Area Noise Music community overheard by the author, practitioners and critics have questioned the inclusiveness in this scene, namely that of the dominant presence of men as well as a noted cliquishness. However, it could be argued that these features are characteristic of any established art school or genre.

Permanently inspired by Karlheinz Stockhausen’s Gesang der Jünglinge (1955/56), upon hearing it when attending The Norwegian State Academy of Music in 1995, Ratkje discovered a newfound love of composition, following two decades studying as player and singer. At the Academy, Ratkje formed SPUNK with three other students, Kristin Anderson (trumpet, recorder), Lene Grenager (cello) and Hild Sofie Tafjord (French horn). Later, Ratkje and Sofie Tafjord would collaborate as the duo Fe-Mail. With monikers stating the all woman make up of these two groups (the name SPUNK was initially a reference to Astrid Lindgren’s Pippi Longstocking), these projects are primarily improvisation based, taking cues from free jazz, contemporary classical, and most notably noise music.

Of all her releases Ratkje’s vocal performance has the most lasting impact on international audiences. Voice, her solo debut, was released on the noteworthy label Rune Grammofon that ran in the same contemporary music based circles of Oslo. SPUNK had previously put out a few cds on Rune Grammofon. Though one can theoretically conclude a conservatory tradition in Ratkje’s work, citing Cathy Berberian and Joan La Barbara as a lineage leading to Ratkje. She makes a point, however, not to be defined as a vocalist, saying that to put her along side avant singers such as Joan La Barbara and Cathy Berberian would be to apply sort of “circus” element and take away from the music itself. This notion is greatly supported by the thoughts expressed by Berberian herself, heard within La Barbara’s 1977 piece “Cathing.” While overlooking La Barbara’s agenda within the piece for the moment, we hear a recording of Berberian state that extended vocal technique is a limiting and has a “freak element” from which she distinguishes herself as she can “really sing.”

Voice (2002) is sourced entirely from Ratkje’s voice, made an impact on the avant record market and press, and reportedly influenced Björk to record her accapella release Medúlla. Though one could make a case of a thread of commonality between these two conservatory trained, restless genre hoppers, Ratkje seldom ventures fully in what one could call traditional song as Björk more accessibly does.

The duo Jazzkammer co-produced Voice with Ratkje. Comprised of fellow Oslo noise travelers John Hegre and Lasse Marhaug, Jazzkammer met Raktje at an Otomo Yoshihide workshop. With Yoshihide’s workshop incubating an ongoing musical relationship between Ratkje’s and Marhaug, it’s interesting to note the aesthetic similarities of the Japanese and Scandinavian noise scenes. Both cultures have been stereotyped as having an emotionally stifling formalism. Ratjke sees noise music as “a release, or a celebration” and can possibly be seen as a counter a staid, cerebral culture where more immediate, raw communication is shunned. Incidentally, both countries’ noise scenes are of the most internationally respected and referenced.

Norway is also noted for one of the longer lasting and highly discussed black metal traditions. Never to pass on stretching her creative muscles into new territories, Ratkje, along with Fe-Mail co-member Sofie Tafjord, have collaborated with members of the Norwegian black metal group Enslaved and produced material under the guise of Trinacria. These songs weave the wordless, reverberated tones of Ratkje voice and Sofie Tafjord’s processed French horn with the melodic pummeling staccato of more traditional rock instrumentation, guitars and drum kit, perhaps producing Ratkje’s most commercial work to date. It certainly sounds as if Fe-Mail is having fun, and by complicating the über masculine tendencies of metal, we hear for the first time something akin to the play with gender norms indicated in Fe-Mail titles and cover images, such as Syklubb fra Hælvete, Voluptuous Vultures, All Men Are Pigs, “Gossip” and “It Becomes Her.” Otherwise Ratkje, who identifies herself a feminist, chooses to allow her music to be absent of direct political sentiment. Recognizing the powers of ambivalent abstraction and its constant ability to move, morph and contradict itself, which creates in turn a humanistic music, which is universally liberating.

When communicating via email with two recent Ratkje collaborators, Norwegian electronic musicians Bjørn Hatterud and Ronny Waernes, Waernes interestingly first calls Ratkje “a well known and acclaimed classical composer” and has said “she masters performing melodies on instruments.” Hatterud points out that “she plays it with the fingerspitzengefühl that only a classical trained composer can.” and besides the musical product the prolific Ratkje has produced, she is also recognized as a philosopher, or as he put it in his non-native English “a thinker”. She has written and been interviewed on subjects outside of music including an article on Philosopher Henri Bergson’s theories about how “all change (movement)… must be understood as a whole.” This concept plays out well, for example, in this recording:

Live at GRM

A constant aliveness that presents an understanding of “the whole”, and breaks through this condenser mic in the back of the room recording which could have fossilized a lesser performer. In another piece of writing, Ratkje moves from “thinker” to a teacher in her “Nine Prerequisites for Inspiration”, published in 2006 in the John Zorn edited Arcana. In an article mainly about improvisation, Ratkje’s breaks down of what she calls “communication on three levels” — which, in short, continues from Bergson’s theories as well as perhaps touching on Gaston Bachelard’s “Poetics of Space”— when she reasons that the primary level of communication is “the meeting place for the art, the time and the room and the people in it.”

(…) Po přestávce, během které zaznělo několik gratulací a poděkování autorům HIS Voice, představení nového designu i směřování periodika, se před publikum dostavila norská vokalistka Maja Ratkje. Improvizátorka přednesla dvě performance, při kterých si pomáhala různými nástroji od harmoniky po zvonkohru. Pomocí nich vytvářela samply, které nahrávala do smyček a poté je používala jako podkres pod svůj hlas.

Ten je devizou celé její tvorby a bez něj by byl její set zaměnitelný s jinými ambientními či noisovými experimentátory. Jenže není. Chvíli jsme v jejím hlase slyšeli lehký vánek potulující se norskými pláněmi, aby hned nato otočila knoflíkem na syntezátoru a spustila ničivý hurikán, který vytrhl z dumání všechny účastníky. Krom zpěvu bylo také zajímavé nahrávání zvuků mikrofonem v ústech, které zpěvačka vydávala bez pohybů rtů. Po skončení setu sice ihned utekla, bouřlivý potlesk ji však donutil vrátit se zpět.

(…)

Opprørende at norske artister ikke deltar i debatten om Statoil-sponsing, mener komponist Maja Ratkje.

– Jeg er opprørt over at ikke flere kunstnere og musikere er engasjert i denne debatten. Det tyder på at Statoils propaganda virker, sier Maja Ratkje.

I Dagsavisen i går kom det fram at den amerikanske punklegenden Ian MacKaye sa nei til å holde foredrag på årets Bylarm, i protest mot Bylarms sponsoravtale med Statoil.

– Kunstnere bør være en kritisk instans i samfunnet. Jeg skulle ønske at flere norske artister var like offensive som Ian MacKaye, sier Ratkje.

Hvert år under Bylarm deler Statoil ut et stipend på en drøy million kroner til en norsk artist for utenlandssatsing, en ordning som har vært omdiskutert. Under årets Bylarm gikk Ratkje ut i Aftenposten sammen med DJ og artist Elin Vister med kronikken «Skitne penger». Der krever de at Bylarm avvikler samarbeidet med Statoil.

– Etter kronikken ble det helt stille. Det har senket seg en konsensus om at Statoil-sponsing er greit. Og når så mange er enige om at dette er greit, skal det enda mer til å bryte ut og si at dette er problematisk, mener Ratkje. – Slik knebler Statoil musikkmiljøet. Fordi så mange i musikklivet er involvert i Bylarm, blir de hindret fra å ta miljøpolitiske standpunkt.

Kunstpris

Nylig ble nominasjonene offentliggjort til Statoils kunstpris for 2011, som er på 500.000 kroner og deles ut til en norsk kunster. Ratkje mener dette er like problematisk som Statoils sponsing av norsk musikk gjennom Bylarm.

– For Statoil er dette lommerusk, for en kunstner er dette gigantiske penger som det er vanskelig å si nei til. Det finnes nesten ikke så store stipender i kunst- og kulturlivet. Statoil har behov for å renvaske et skittent firmanavn, som blir stadig skitnere gjennom blant annet tjæresandprosjektene i Canada. Kunst- og musikkprisene gir mye omtale, og koster mindre enn dyre avisannonser. Musikere og kunstnere blir brukt som trofeer for Statoil, poengterer Ratkje.

– Det er ikke populært å gå ut mot Statoil, men det er helt nødvendig. Som kunstner er jeg opptatt av sannhet og oppriktighet. Klimatrusselen er alvorlig, man kan ikke lukke øynene for virkeligheten. Når jeg reiser i andre land opplever jeg at mange er rystet over Norge som miljønasjon. Vi har fått et verstingstempel, på grunn av blant andre Statoil, sier Ratkje.

Støttet igjen

I går ble det klart at Bylarm likevel blir innstilt til støtte fra Oslo kommune. På budsjettforslaget før i år ble det innstilt på å frata festivalen støtten på 1,5 millioner, på grunn av manglende dokumentasjon på økonomiske forhold ved Bylarms eierselskap Bureau Storm. På det reviderte budsjettforslaget øker byrådet støtten til kultur, og innstiller Bylarm på en million kroner.

SVARTSKOG/OSLO: «Korall Koral», komponert av Maja Ratkje, har gledet små barn over hele landet. Jeg tok med datteren min, Emma Michelle (ni måneder), for å sjekke det ut.

– O-øh, sier datteren min, Emma Michelle, til meg. Hun peker på et skjellformet telt i foajeen til Operaen i Oslo, mens hun prøver å svømme av fanget mitt.

– Forestillingen er en reise i farger, lyd og bevegelse. Den er ment å gi en opplevelse og nærhet til barnet ditt. Det er ikke et rent pedagogisk verk med musikk, scenografi og bevegelser, forteller Maja Ratkje. Hun er fra Svartskog og er komponisten av babyoperaen «Korall Koral».

En oversiktlig prosess

Under produksjonen for to år siden hadde hun med seg sin yngste datter, Marte, som var bare tre-fire måneder gammel. Marte var hennes «konsulent» i arbeidet med koreografien. Hun kom med respons på deres ideer om hvordan bevegelsen skulle foregå. Dette var en viktig del av prosessen mot resultatet.

Emma Michelle klapper i hendene og ser opp på meg. Det hvite teltet, formet som en dråpe er tomt.

En babyopera blir til

–Io-æ, sier Emma Michelle igjen og peker bort på flere barn, som samler seg rundt teltet. Veien inn til det skjellformede teltet, som har runde åpninger på alle sider, blir mindre og mindre mot enden av skjellet.

– Samspillet med mine barn har vært veldig viktig, forteller Ratkje.

– Inspirasjonen til «Korall Koral» var en lek, en lek med lyder. Marte og hennes storesøster Frida, som var to år, sang og laget tulleord sammen under produksjonen av forestillingen.

Emma Michelle snur seg og drar meg i håret, mens hun prøver å hoppe av fanget. Hun vil ta på teltet. Alt er så merkelig synes hun.

En dame, Silje Aker Johnsen, med rødrosa hårbånd lirker seg inn i teltet fra enden. Hun ligger helt på gulvet. En merkelig tromme har hun i hendene. Sanden inni den er med på å lage havets hemmelighetsfulle lyder.

Essensen i bevegelsene

Bølgelyder høres i rommet. «Svusj, svusj». Det suser og barna ser spente på damen som drar seg over det grønne teppet med den merkelige boksen i hånden.

– Det var viktig å sette ordene riktig sammen. Hele forestillingen har klassiske formgrep, som binder det hele sammen. Dramaturgien er svært viktig her, sier Ratkje.

Instrumentene er hjemmelagde og har en viktig essens gjennom hele showet. Maja Ratkje var med på å utarbeide samspillet mellom lyd og bevegelse, som bare er beriket på sanselige opplevelser for barn. Det finnes ingen litterær historie.

Musikklyder inspirert av havet, spilles lavt i bakgrunnen. Høye toner kommer igjennom. Konkylien midt i rommet mumler små besynderlige lyder.

– Jeg satt mye hjemme og lagde vers. Så overleverte jeg det muntlig til de andre, forteller Ratkje.

Hun lagde aldri noter. De lærte seg musikken og tekstene av hverandre. Lyden som høres er lav og enkel, men den er nøye utvalgt til forestillingen. Hver enkelt lyd er nøye presisert og assortert.

Klappeleken

– Bebe, be, sier Hanna Gjermundrød høyt og i takt. Hun har nettopp krøpet inn i teltet. Silje Aker Johnsen beveger seg mot henne og sier det samme.

–Babusjka, sier de plutselig med klappende hender. De fyller det skjellformede teltet med lyder som minner babyspråk.

– De tekstlige vokalene som høres er polynesiske og russiske. Klappeleken er en lek med stavelser på polynesisk, men de betyr ingenting. Bare tekstlige elementer basert på lyd, forklarer Ratkje.

Stykket er bygd opp med frie opplevelser for barna, der de kan få uttrykke seg selv under forestillingen. Emma Michelle retter seg mot dem. Nå følger hun med. Et lite smil viser seg. Hun ser på dem og merker seg lydene. Jeg kan ikke annet enn å smile. Mine forventninger blir kastet vekk. Dette var rart, tenker jeg. Annerledes, men fantastisk. Lille Emma Michelle er oppslukt. Aktørene Silje og Hanna legger seg ned på gulvet, og enkelte høylytte ord kommer ut av dem, som en baby selv gjør.

De litt eldre barna følger med hele tiden. Når Silje plutselig gjemmer seg under en sjøstjerne og titter frem mot barna, smiler Emma Michelle.

Opplev i Kolben?

Forestillingen er veldig populær. Under en halv million voksne og barn har sett forestillingene rundt om i landet. Det kan også tenkes at Kolben vil tilby små barnefamilier denne muligheten. Det er kanskje en mulighet til våren.

– Vi er veldig interessert, sier Tone Jørpeland Lunde, kulturhusleder i Kolben.

Link to work