MySpace
myspace music


Elegi



Last Updated: 11/17/2009

Send Message
Instant Message
Email to a Friend
Subscribe

Blog Archive
[Older      Newer]
 /  / 
Monday, June 15, 2009 
Hi!
Just thought i'd tell you about some of the things i'm working on at the moment, in case you're interested.

Svarte Greiner and Elegi is currently composing music and sound-design together for a contemporary dance by the amazing choreographer Ina Christel Johannessen.
The premier will be in October this year and we're really excited to be part of this!


The Thief



I am also scoring a upcoming movie called "The Pink Hotel" by Chicago artist Chris Hefner.
You can follow the process here or here. I think it's safe to promise you a really special movie from the talented Mr. Hefner.


Photobucket


I will release a new album later this year on the US label Murkhouse Recordings.
Taking a short break from the Miasmah trilogy to give you these strange sounds.
It's titled "Bånsull" and i'm really happy with it and hope you will like it too.

Also forgot to mention earlier that i contributed to this compilation.
The line up: machinefabriek, peter broderick, jasper leiland, hauschka, elegi, deaf center, arve henriksen, greg haines, hannu, tape, swod, the boats, jacaszek, errante, loscil, dakota suite & nick hawley. Oh, and btw; i had a chat with Musique Machine a couple of weeks ago, if you're interested to check it out.

If you never got hold of my "Sistereis" album, i'm happy to say that it's being repressed now. Also looks like there will be vinyl versions of "Sistereis" and "Varde" at some point. Got a lot of requests from you guys about this, so i guess that's good news...

When i have the time, i will also continue working on my final album in the trilogy.

That's it folks. Wish you all a wonderful summer!!!!!!!

Your friend,
Tommy
















Monday, January 26, 2009 










Foxy Digitalis
After his glorious “Sistereis” album from 2007 Tommy Jansen, aka Elegi,
returns with his second album for Miasmah. “Varde” is, again, an
immensely atmospherical album but this time it’s not about shipwreck
but about polar explorers and the sublime environment into which they
advance, aspiring to reach the pole first. I don’t think the album
narrates any explorer’s particular story. There are documents printed
in the booklet (designed, as always with Miasmah releases, by labelhead
Erik Skodvin (aka Svarte Greiner)) and there’s what I take to be an
authentic historical audio document that features heavily in the final
track, “Den Store Hvite Stillhet”. But these seem to be about different
journeys, shifting the focus from narrative to stasis, ambience,
landscape. And to the melancholy induced by the explorers’ hubris.


In true keeping with the label’s sound aesthetics, “Varde” is crackling
throughout, employing field recordings to evoke images and fragments of
narrative: a child mysteriously wailing across the icy landscapes; a
shovel being used to – pitch camp, maybe? Or to build one of the cairns
that the title track alludes to (for that’s the meaning of the
Norwegian word “Varde”). Four minutes into the album, Jansen’s widened
scope becomes apparent when grandiose strings elevate the daring
trespassers into the hostile landscape they’re unlikely to leave again.
While “Sistereis” was a naval fantasy conceived in the composer’s mind
alone, “Tonmeister” Jansen uses four players now to add violin, saw,
percussion, double bass, thus giving the album a symphonic quality
lacking from the debut. Doom is everywhere, but it is white. Hostility
looms, but it is beautiful. As a consequence, “Varde” is organic, but
cold, beautiful but keeping the listener at a distance while it warily
follows the voyager’s cairns into the barren terrain. Once “Den Store
Hvite Stillhet” (“The Great White Quiet”) is reached, no human steps,
no crackling ropes, no sleds can by heard anymore. Instead, a voice
over crackling static. Combining modern composition and a barren
variant of ambient, “Varde” is yet another triumph for Skodvin’s
Miasmah imprint. 9/10




-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


The Silent Ballet
There appear to be countries in which life unreels in slow motion as low temperatures
become some sort ofraison
d'être
. Among these is Norway, whose Elegi, aka Tommy
Jansen, returns after two years of silence with Varde, a kaleidoscope of
arctic stillness, hushed anxieties and endless expeditions to unknown realms. At
the other end of the spectrum, there are the melodious qualities Jansen subtly
displays, but it might take you a while and a few good listens to gain complete
detachment from the serene thunderstorm of emotions and to start understanding
where the album’s refinement comes from.

The first shock one is bound to
experience is that Varde, unlike any other
dark ambient records you might have heard, sounds completely untamed. Its
intrinsic quality resides in the existence of every low level sonance; somehow,
everything you can hear is inscribed in your memory and there are no unfamiliar
structures. Feeble baby cries, an old vinyl spinning, a sudden burst of furious
wind: they are all part of a procession of environmental noises meant to induce
an intractable dejection. Merging these with frail touches of violin and piano,
Jansen manages to create a daunting and claustrophobic piece, anchored in inner
and alternative realities. At times, the instruments and constructed soundscapes
blend together so well it becomes fairly tedious to try to distinguish them, but
ultimately this needs to be the record’s intent – creating some sort of malign
symphony while abolishing everything of an unearthly essence.

The frustration that comes along with the first songs of Varde derives from the record’s
faux-cinematic aspect. To some extent, almost every instrumental album contains
in itself a collection of vivid scenes, images birthed in the listener's
imagination through delicate yet powerful melodies. However, this is not the
case here - upon hearing Jansen’s effort, all senses seem to fail. Most of the
time, it is as though you are walking blindfolded through endless spaces.
Proceeding is strenuous; you can hear and feel your every step, but the nature
of the things underneath your soles is uncertain. The images are equivocal and
cannot be seen, but every noise you can discern will root deep in your senses
and cue you to Tarkovsky’s world of watery symbols, where every glimpse you
catch helps construct a picture - a picture that in the end collapses. Varde has an authentic narrative throughout, but each listener must find her own way of fastening herself to the story. Now and then, a film roll reminds you there is nothing to be seen; everything is
being created down within one’s deepest senses, like spiraling downward through
a personal rabbit hole where every sound is transformed into an ethereal object.
Nevertheless, the next minute this surrealist display comes at an end, and you
can find yourself confined to four interminable walls again. If anything, this
is an ever-changing music, which eventually conjures the same somber finality.
It truly is remarkable how something so frail and loose can attain such an
evocative and haunting progression.Organic from end-to-end, after a few
spins Varde starts dictating your blood flow, heart beats and spine chills. Every note is like another disease; there is no cure; there is nothing to be done, but one must go on as the sense of desolation expands. For almost an hour, all middle ground ceases to exist asVarde puts you face to face with your darkest fears. This comes highly recommended should you wear a life vest - for reality fades, and sentiment takes over melody as the desperate cries and lonely howls segue and call Alice to mind, who had to reach the shore by swimming through her own tears. (8/10)
-Diana Sitaru


-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


RA
Over the course of his two albums for Miasmah, Norwegian composer Tommy
Jansen, AKA Elegi, has proven himself to be as compelling a storyteller
as he is gifted a musician. His talent for imagining historical
instances of claustrophobia through a stylized and simple take on
modern classical music has less to do with composition, though, and
more to do with collaging techniques.

His latest, Varde, re-conceives the failed 1912 expedition
to the South Pole by the British naval captain Robert Falcon Scott. The
second installment in a projected trilogy, it's a work that delivers on
its devastating premise with intimacy and ease. Robert Falcon Scott's
body was found in a tent some eight months after he and his men had
frozen to death. He was most likely the last of his crew to die, and Varde
captures the isolation and fear that must have accompanied the British
captain as he waited in the cold for death to claim him. Jansen's
arresting sense of atmosphere and pacing takes the listener on that
ill-fated, two-year journey, following the mood of Scott's journey from
the eerie premonitions of its opening title track, right down to the
doomy, climactic intervals that recreate his crew's slow death by
album's end.

Throughout, Jansen cuts to the gloom of impending failure without
pressing the listener anymore than he absolutely has to. The attention
to detail is what brings this record to life. At Varde's
center are the same forlorn strings and pensive piano dirges that form
the foundation for most other modern classicists working between the
goalposts of Erik Satie and Gavin Bryars. But what distinguishes Elegi
are the interloping crackles of static, the old 78's siphoning through
big-band orchestras, the creaking boards, the muffled voices and a
recurring choke that sounds disarmingly like someone suffocating. The
results are closer to classical collages of found sound more than music
in any traditional sense. Jansen's mood rises up from the detritus of
textures surrounding his spare instrumentation, which keeps the album
from slipping into the over-melodious sentimentality that has a habit
of sometimes overtaking the work of some of his peers.


By album's end, you get the sense that Jansen's work rises above the
rest of the pack not necessarily through musical ingenuity, but more so
by cultivating a deathly complex picture of existential doom. Varde is one of the eerier commitments of human catastrophe to music this side of Gavin Bryars' The Sinking of the Titanic.
One would assume that Jansen is aware of the significant likenesses
between his work and Bryars' composition because he's exploiting many
of the same cues. It's the records only nagging drawback, but it's
ultimately a trivial criticism given Varde's refined intimacy. No matter which way you look at it, this is dire, often intimidating music, as jarring as it is beautiful. (4.5/5)






----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



Music Machine
Varde follows on from the dread soaked sea bound wonder of Elegi 's first album 07's Sistereis- but offers up a denser, more aged, textured and varied edge to the projects doomed classical meets grainy electronics sound.
The
albums sound it’s built from atmospheric and heavy static grain, murky
radio textures and voices. Creaks, bows and all manner ship like
shifting and sea-bound sounds all to build-up a grim yet compelling
sonic back canvas. To which melancholy and doomed melodic string simmer
and slow down saws are added along with haunting piano pitter-patter;
all of which pierces and slowly moves over the tracks atmospheric
grain. The albums sound goes from hopeless and very doomed as slow
bowed bass swoon and descend around you as if you’re going down slowly
but surely with steel hulk of a Victoria cruise ship. To elegant yet
eerier and slightly off centre piano beauty-that seems to hint of some
approaching dread or an ominous shadow on a seemingly bright and breezy
ship deck ready to envelop you. Or graceful and slow moving string
swoon and filmatics that at first seem ornate and grand but slowly and
surely becomes aged and more uneasy like a ship appearing out of fog
that at first seems impressive and proud but as time goes by it agers
and declines before your eyes.

Through-out all of Varde there is a atmosphere which
pervades you can literally cut with a knife, but underneath all the
atmospheric and dense weight of sonic presence there are beautiful,
haunting ,memorable tunes. As well as clever compositional moves and
sonic juxtapositions making this an album that really grows and grimly
blossoms over time
Roger Batty (4/5

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------)



Mapsadaisical
The reputation of Robert Falcon Scott has been so traduced in the
years since his grand Antarctic misadventures that he would have been
as well wringing the neck of Oates with is own bare hands, before
feeding his meagre purple- blue remains to the huskies. Assuming he had
brought any huskies that is, the useless old fool. The reputation of
Tommy Jansen, aka Elegi, is heading in precisely the opposite
direction, and at a far greater speed than Scott’s frostbitten shuffle.

Varde is Elegi’s second album for the Miasmah label, after 2007’s ethereal Sistereis. Varde translates as cairn,and with all the Antarctic paraphernalia littering the CD case, I wouldassume that to be the cairn that marks the supposed site of Oates’s
fateful last toilet trip. Filling in the wintry expanse with an expanded sound pallette, Jansen here delivers a rich and hugely fulfilling record. Varde opens with the sound of snow being shovelled, from a tomb deep inside cavernous rumble; other field
recordings - icy footsteps and exhausted mutterings - are strewn over
the remainder of the album. On album highlight “Fandens Bre“, huge cracklesubsides to leave a ghostly, Jeck-like choral melody hanging in the air, as if the voices were frozen in time. Varde feels more musical than Sistereis:
the weighty “Svanesang” and “Uranienborg” are pulled along slowly by
piano, a string section deliver an elegant coup-de-grace to the
menacing “Skrugard” and “Rak”, and drums pound out the erratic final
rhythms of “Drivis”.
Jansen has taken risks, and he knows he has taken them. Varde
may well be the finest release yet on the peerless Miasmah; perhaps the
achievements of Jansen show him to have far more in common with his
countryman Roald Amundsen than with the hapless Scott. 

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Boomkat
Tommy Jansen returns with an album themed around ill-fated Arctic exploration, making explicit reference to the demise of Captain Scott's expedition in the liner notes. The title, Varde, translates as 'cairn' - a pile of stones, which traditionally carries associations pertaining to the marking of graves, and appropriately the whole album sounds like a chilling and uncompromising electroacoustic requiem, evoking a sense of frosty grimness and a funereal feel that's so in-keeping with the Miasmah sound. The opening piece (the album's title track) ominously merges the sounds of shovelling with a stormy wax cylinder crackle - it's as if Deathprod were scoring a gravesside sound installation, but for all the implied doom and gloom, there's not a moment of it goes by that isn't eerily beautiful. Following directly on, the bass-heavy bowed strings of 'Skrugard' demonstrate Jansen's ear for conventional composition setting shivering minor-key harmonics within a blizzard of dark ambient electronic gestures. Cutting through the murk, 'Arvesloev' introduces some stuttering dulcimer-like string plucks while crisp, arrhythmic percussive sounds lend a sense of nervousness. The track starts out with a quiet whirring sound, like the motorised rasp of an old film projector, only further compounding the cinematic feel that permeates the album. After a sequence of deeply textured low-end drone tracts (among them 'Fandens Bre' and 'Drivis') the eloquent neo-classical strains of 'Raak' arrive as a particularly luminous departure, shifting the emphasis from sub-heavy sludge to windswept violins in a seamless and emphatically melodic fashion. On 'Soevnens Kvelertak', Jansen combines loose exchanges between piano and strings (not to mention the odd wolf howl) with an old dusty vinyl recording of some romantic, vaguely creepy orchestral tune, all wafting around in ghostly fashion. Varde is a magnificent piece of work, transcending the conventions of the death ambient genre thanks to an extremely refined compositional approach - as haunting Nordic gloom goes this is right up there with the best output of Miasmah boss Svarte Greiner. Very highly recommended.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


The Wire
Norwegian Tommy Jansen Elegi, whose Varde is the second instalment of a trilogy for Miasmah.
Evoking a ship's doomed voyage, the first, Sistereis, was inspired by Jansen's passion for wreckdiving. Varde deals with another ill-fated journey- Captain Scott's polar exploration.
The crisp sounds of creaking ice and a shovel digging into snow opens the album, before the solitary wail of a violin takes over. Percussion, double bass, musical saw, piano and a brass band propel Varde to the edge of contemporary compositions rather than metal. If these two albums posit an Acoustic Doom genre, then Varde's dexterity and elegance lift it way above the often stodgy Dark Ambient sphere.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Aquarius
"There must be something about the wondrous landscapes of Norway that
seems to breed some of the most epic, gorgeously somber music around.
Frigid cold and towering crags rising from the Arctic water, it's no
wonder Tommy Jansen, the composer behind Elegi, is a living example
of this Norwegian vision that never fails to blow us away.
Varde, the title of Elegi's second album in a trilogy from the
excellent Miasmah label, translates to cairn, a pile of stones
usually left to mark a pathway. Which is totally appropriate
considering Varde was written as an instrumental narrative retelling
the adventures and hardships of the first polar explorations. With
electronics, piano, quiet percussion, various field recordings and
lush violin, Jansen lures the listener into a world not unlike the
experience of those brave explorers: icy bleakness, uncertainty and
impending doom. Shimmering drones grow and subside, slow trudging
footsteps in the distance, cascading swirls of snow are lifted and
thrown about by the wind. Jansen is a master at crafting an
incredibly vivid atmosphere, evoking frozen memories of the desolate
north, gorgeous and inspirational. Combining modern composition,
ambient drones, and his love for Victorian storytelling, Jansen
offers up his most accomplished and touching masterpiece, a seriously
beautiful and haunting experience. Kinda like if Andrew Chalk,
Goldmund and Stars of the Lid met up in the Arctic to write an epic
score for the apocalypse. Super dark dreamy goodness here, we
couldn't be more impressed. Already we've played this a bunch in the
store, and really can't get enough of it. Varde is just one of those
records where you hear something new every time you listen to it,
subtle textures and details that surface from the constantly shifting
background. Highly recommended for fans of washed out midnight
ambience, similar to the dreamier stuff the Type label has been
releasing lately, beautiful melodies laced with a sinister darkness
that lurks just below the surface. Oh and, uh, just in case you
couldn't tell already, we REALLY dig this album!!! Highly
recommended, especially for fans of any of the other recent killer
releases on the Misamah label!! "


------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


The Silent Ballet
2009 begins with a spotlight on Elegi's Varde, the second in what appears to be a trilogy focused on everything that could be described as "endlessly bleak." Previously we saw Tommy Jansen diving through shipwrecked vessels, and now he's accompanying a team of "pioneer polar explorers" to some of the harshest places on earth -- I'd put good money that countryman Fridtjof Nansen is by his side. Nansen couldn't ask for a better soundtrack for the infinitely frustrating trek through subzero temperatures, hellish weather, and nagging suicidal thoughts. The press release for this piece comes with the boast of comparing it to Gavin Bryars/Philip Jeck/Alter Ego's Sinking of the Titanic, and while I initially laughed at that idea, the vivid portrait painted here is actually quite reminiscent of the Touch jewel. The year has just begun and already we've got a candidate for top album. This could be quite a wild year...


------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Textura

Given ambient's fundamental nature, the recent
deluge in “deep-sea ambient” recordings doesn't come as a total
surprise though it's hard not to take note of the works' synchronicity.
Gavin Bryars' The Sinking of the Titanic, which arguably kick-started the genre, has been joined in recent times by Willits + Sakamoto's Ocean Fire, Mathieu Ruhlmann and Celer's Mesoscaphe, and even Fennesz's Black Sea Varde
by Norwegian composer Tommy Jansen (aka Elegi) advances the genre by
positioning itself midway between conventional music-making and
evocative sound-design, with funereal arrangements for piano, musical
saw, percussion, and violin on the one side and a rich mix of creaks,
rustlings, slams, and natural sounds on the other.
(admittedly more emblematic of the genre by title than actual sound).

The background story for the recording concerns the discovery by a 1912
Antarctic search party of the frozen remains of Captain Robert Scott
and two companions who were found inside sleeping bags inside a tent,
the three dead for eight months at the time of discovery. Jansen's
sound design powerfully conveys moods and feelings appropriate to the
subject matter: the isolation and creeping terror the three men might
have experienced as they stared death in the face, gradually realizing
what their fate would inevitably be as they gazed upon the barren and
unforgiving frozen landscape around them. During the unsettling,
fifty-four minute work, one hears excavation sounds of digging through
ice and snow, moaning winds drifting across the desolate plains, the
corroded tape recording of a speaking voice, channel-switching on the
radio between melodramatic classical music and clarinet playing, with
all such materials augmented by muffled strings, piano, static, and
crackle. The four musicians Jansen recruited for the recording make
strong contributions: often theremin-like in tone, Dan Cantrell's
musical saw deepens the material's mysterious character, while the
bowed creak of Ronny Sveen's double bass suggests a huge ship slowly
rocking against blocks of ice in “Svanesang.” “Skrugard” is rather
similar to Bryars' writing in the way that Meredith Yayanos's violin
sinuously navigates its way through the atmospheric gloom “tonmeister”
Jansen sculpts around her. Yayanos's plaintive violin also charts a
course through a haunted mass of spectral tones in “Råk.”

Listeners familiar with Sistereis
will recognize that the funereal melancholy of the first Elegi release
remains solidly in place on this second outing, prompting one to wonder
what particular subject matter Jansen will take on for the third
installment in his projected trilogy. Whatever it turns out to be, one
presumes that it will perpetuate his affinity for classical-influenced
“gloom” ambient.


----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Tiny Mix Tapes

With Varde, Norwegian composer Tommy Jansen, a.k.a. Elegi, has launched the sequel to Sistereis,
attempting once again to investigate the tribulations of the first
polar explorers. Throughout the record, capacious echo, gurgling bass
frequencies, and morose string motifs evoke wintry landscapes, calling
forth the dual sense of loneliness and achievement that must have
burdened the explorers who crossed those landscapes. Solitary piano
notes resonate for seven, eight seconds, before succumbing to the
rippling of somber cello harmonies and windy atmospheres that
alternately whistle and moan. Ominous crunches bring to mind the strain
of wood, metal, and bone in extreme temperatures. Occasionally, a
shuttered voice will be heard in the distance, akin to the muffled
speech transmitted by a shortwave radio; and every so often, there are
heartbreaking dashes of warm, civilized sound in the midst of the polar
suites: “Fandens Bre” concludes with a shadowed sample of a military
march, while “Angekok” opens with the layered gurgling of infants.

As the album progresses, Jansen proves he is capable of a tableaux
of varying size and density. Some pieces have the expansive weight of
an arctic vista, like Anselm Kiefer canvasses blasted with snow.
Others, such as “Arvesoelv,” thread decaying notes over flat tapping
and scraping, bringing out the frightful intimacy of a battered camp
scene. Jansen’s range of focus, from the vast to the minute, points to
perhaps the cleverest and most thought-provoking aspect of Varde
— the inversion of the mimetic relationship between nature and machine.
The artist uses machines to represent the sounds of the natural world
and then employs acoustic instruments to imitate the explorers’
equipment. A clipped piano note, for example, sounds like the alert
signal from some kind of thermometric device, while the keening of
disguised synthesizers recalls cooing whales and the vicious lyricism
of the arctic wind.

This spiraling dialectic between nature and machine animates the
drama underneath the album’s frosty surface. Jansen, like the polar
explorers portrayed in his music, is attempting to capture a segment of
the world through mechanical means. In this context, the album’s title
makes sense. Varde, Norwegian for “cairn,” may be Jansen’s
humble attempt to mark the musical landscape with a small monument.
This hard, porous heap of songs may not look like much from a distance,
but its stark artistry can be compelling up close. (4/5)

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Themilkfactory
Elegi’s Tommy Jansen returns to the contaminated shore of Erik Skodvin’s Miasmah with the follow up to his 2007 debut album Sistereis, and adds another shade of noire to an already sombre catalogue. In the ten years the label has been around, in one form or another, Miasmah have carved a perfect niche for themselves by releasing some of the most haunting and dark music around, from artists such as Greg Haines, Rafael Anton Irisarri, Gultskra Artikler or Encre.

Two years ago, Norwegian musician and composer Tommy Jansen, delivered a first opus that paced up and down the desolated no man’s land between minimal contemporary classical music and isolationist electronica. With force grainy textures, created out of found sounds, and slow moving drapes of electronic sound waves, Jansen was drawing the outlines of a trilogy of which Varde is the second instalment.

Inspired by polar exploration, especially the 1912 Terra Nova expedition to the South Pole led by British Royal Navy officer Captain Roger Scott, which ended in tragedy when the five members of the expedition perished on the return leg of their journey, Varde is an impressive second effort by the Norwegian musician. Jansen weaves some particularly glacial soundscapes here, developing further the dense magma-like forms that he showcased on Sistereis. It is as if everything was intensified. The found sounds seem eroded by a long process of oxidation, the tones are more intense, and the overall pace appears even slower and more dramatic. To complete his sound palette, additional musicians provide layers of acoustic instrumentation, violin on Skrugard and Råk,, musical saw on Skrugard, Drivis and Fandens Bre, percussions on Drivis and Fandens Bre and double bass on Svanesang, and accentuate the organic feel of Jansen’s compositions.

The sound formations are so dense and tight that it is often virtually impossible to disassociate the musical elements and the environmental noises, but, on Råk especially, the violin adds an incredibly haunting and human touch to the music. Elsewhere though, the pieces remain shrouded in thick clouds of sound, with, at times, the lone tone of a piano, a sudden gust of wind or the distant howl of a wolf for sole focal point.

Varde, which translates as cairn, a pile of stones used as a monument, is as cold and inhospitable as its predecessor, but, somehow, Jansen seem to have given some of the musical aspects of his work more relief and definitions. While drones still form integrant part of the music, melodies, while still very much set deep in the mix, give out an occasional warm glow throughout.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Normanrecords
If the new 'White Lies' CD leaves you cold and you are wanting something a bit more avant garde then try this CD by Elegi called 'Varde'. This is ambient stuff that reminds us all a bit of the Caretaker in that some of the noises are horrid but somehow comforting. Theres some beautiful violin playing on track 2 which is kind of the 'naughty' to Max Richter's 'nice', Twinkling pianos, creaking doors, the distant sound of horns, the build up bits in Talk Talk records, a disturbed child softly playing the piano in an empty church, cut up acoustic guitar, a horn sampled and then played back at random,the squeak of a violin. These are some of the sounds contained herein - we're all quite lost in this record and I don't even want to turn it off. Its on the Miasmah label and I'm told it fits in with other stuff on the label - i.e dark neo classical ambience. This record is really really good. Unfortunately I don't write for The Wire - I'm sure they'd explain it loads better



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Caleidoscoop
Erik Skodvin (Deaf Center, Svarte Greiner) is met zijn label Miasmah hard bezig ’s werelds beste, melancholische kwaliteitslabel te worden. Zeker als het gaat om mysterieuze muziek uit de klassiek getinte elektronica hoek. Ook Elegi behoort tot de club en heeft er al zijn duistere visitekaartje afgegeven met Sistereis uit 2007. Dit project van de melancholisch gestemde, Noorse wrakduiker en muzikant Tommy Jansen lijkt op de genoemde cd ook daadwerkelijk de meest duistere, desolate en mysterieuze plekken van de diepzee te verkennen. Daarbij maakt hij een mix van duistere ambient, veldopnames en experimentele en klassieke geluiden. Voor zijn nieuwe cd Varde, de tweede uit zijn doom-trilogie, is Tommy uitgegaan van het verhaal over de eerste poolexpeditie waarbij de deelnemers met gevaar voor eigen leven één van de meest vijandige gebieden verkennen. Je begrijpt dat hier een net zo desolaat, duister en mysterieus geluid bij bedacht kan worden als de voorganger, wat dan ook het geval is. Een element dat hier zeker bij komt is angst. Met duistere drones, doom en ambient schetst hij op adembenemende wijze de zware expeditie. Op sommige momenten kent de reis ook gevoelens van euforie, waarbij de natuurelementen overwonnen lijken te worden. Hier klinkt de muziek meer helder, totdat al gauw de duisternis weer opdoemt in deze bizarre tocht vol steeds weer nieuwe gevaren. Af en toe lijkt het alsof het ijs onder hun voeten kraakt. Tommy fabriceert dit alles met elektronica, veldopnames en pianoklanken. Daarnaast worden 3 van de 12 tracks prachtig voorzien van viool of contrabas door twee gastmuzikanten. Verder zijn er nog 2 andere gasten te horen op zaag en percussie. Tommy maakt ook veelvuldig gebruik van flarden van angstig klinkende stemmen. Je zit continu op het puntje van je stoel, want het is werkelijk bloedstollend te noemen. Denk aan een biologerende mix van SPK, Henryk Górecki, Svarte Greiner, The Caretaker, Jasper TX, Xela en Deaf Center. Filmische muziek die je meeneemt op een fantastische, ongemakkelijke tocht vol onbeschrijflijke schoonheid.


-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From the dust returned

Elegi's follow-up to Sistereis is the polar exploration-themed Varde,
a gorgeous dark ambient gem focused around the failures of Captain
Robert Falcon Scott and other explorers. Improving on the style set
forth on Sistereis in every way, Varde is a cinematically poignant trip through pristine and barren lands.

Noticeably less heavy than the waterlogged Sistereis, Varde
brings a crisp new sound full of brittle footsteps and wide-open ice
shelves. The compositions have been fine-tuned with a greater sense of
direction, progressing smoothly despite the crackling layers that build
up. Piano and violin diffuse quickly in the chill atmosphere,
disappearing over glaciatic groans. Leather and metal creak under
strain; landscapes slide past in a shimmering haze. It's a delicate
vision fraught with unease. Take the track "Angekok" and its slurring,
reversed gasps - struggling and crying, a failed explorer, a lost
child-cub blunders desperately in frigid, desolate conditions. Or
"Rak," with its mourning violins set to the drumbeat of splitting ice.
Each song is unique and fascinating, perfectly aligned with the others
yet still memorable. Nothing on this album breaks the mood.

While the feel is certaintly differnt, this would go excellently alongside some Northaunt if you really want to feel the chill. Driven by a purposeful calm, Varde is a nigh flawless album; powerful yet tranquil, full of the majesty found in extreme cold. Elegi has set the bar high for ambient material this year. (9/10)

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Cokemachineglow
You have to admire Tommy Jansen, aka Elegi, for what he’s done on Varde.
Or rather, what he hasn’t done: the overwhelming default for this kind
of classical/electronic crossover has been to build massive string
sections aching melancholy and tragedy. Elegi, on the other hand, seems
primarily concerned with vacuity and space. No sooner does he suggest a
melody then it seems to dissolve back into the impenetrable iceberg of
his music.


There’s a political element to this approach, considering that Varde
(Norwegian for “cairn,” the loose stone markers that usually designate
a grave) is Jansen’s own memorial to Captain Scott, the British
explorer who made a fatal attempt to be the first to reach the South
Pole almost a hundred years ago. To construct a tower of sound, an
overture, to Scott would be to ignore what the expedition really
represents: a desperate suicide mission and the last gasp of 19th
century-style imperialism. Scott and his team’s death is tragic, to be
sure, but mostly because it was unnecessary, and because his attempt
was to conquer something symbolic: to delay the inevitable decline of
the British Empire as the world’s premier power.


Even on
tracks where Jansen embraces a gorgeous slow-burn intertwining of piano
and strings, what is felt most prominently is the rougher sinews that
tie it together, like the dusty 78 of some schmaltzy soundtrack to a
Hollywood melodrama that opens and closes “Søvnens Kvelertak.”
“Skrugard” features spine-tingling long, bowed notes, but they’re only
half as haunting as the silences between them. The Nurse With
Wound-like samples of a shovel hitting hard snow on opener “Varde” is
probably the creepiest and most overt reference to the theme of the
album, but most of the time the vast, ice-covered landscape is evoked
less literally. There’s a prominent sense of absence, with the subtler
elements in the background of the music felt more than heard. I can
barely describe what’s going on in the first half of “Råk” except to
say that it feels like a massive glacier held together by the thinnest
layer of ice.


There’s something to be said about the internal
logic of these tracks as well: on “Arvesølv,” the reversed instruments
layered over each other sound like the track is folding and re-folding
back on itself. “Drivis,” with its prominent—but still
distant—percussion, sounds like what more electronic-based free improv
might be if it emanated from a single brain; the strange duality of a
homogenous landscape that still operates according to the chaos of
nature as opposed to our man-made sense of order and continuity. This
remarkable sense of synergy is not achieved by rendering the source
material unrecognizable. The piano on “Svanesang” and “Uranienborg”
sounds just like an ordinary piano, but with an intimate relationship
to the electronics that goes further than similar ambient experiments
by Harold Budd and Ryuichi Sakamoto.


Of course, the lack of anything that immediately jumps out might be seen as a flaw of Varde,
but I like to think of it as a humble, painterly gesture that gives it
a sense of humility amidst the dark, existential weight of its concept.
Scott’s expedition—besides failing to make it out alive—reached the
South Pole only to find a Norwegian flag already planted there. It’s
easy to wonder whether Jansen, likewise hailing from Norway, holds a
degree of smugness in lieu of these facts, but Varde, despite
the near-mutedness of its human cries (“Angekok” features the faint
start of a child’s wimper or cry but mixed together so it becomes a
substantial force amidst the monolithic bass tones) is still
essentially sympathetic. Humanistic, even. Its source of sympathy is
more Herzog than Howard: not glorifying humanity’s heroism in the face
of nature but showing our inability to master it.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ondarock
Prosegue senza sosta l'esplorazione del norvegese Tommy Jansen aka Elegi, che un anno e mezzo dopo "Sistereis" offre ora alle stampe il secondo capitolo della sua cupa trilogia ispirata all'inospitale desolazione delle lande polari. Il tema dell'esplorazione – qui esplicitato nel riferimento alla tragica spedizione antartica di Robert Falcon Scott – rappresenta per Jansen qualcosa più di un mero vezzo concettuale, traducendosi invece in vero e proprio emblema di un percorso musicale inteso a spingersi verso inesplorati territori di sperimentazioni a base dark-ambient.

Anche in ragione della sua dichiarata ispirazione, "Varde" (termine norvegese utilizzato per indicare una tradizionale stele funeraria formata da pietre sovrapposte) assume sfumature di ancor più spessa oscurità, atteggiandosi quale sinistra elegia elettroacustica, incessantemente percorsa da plumbei flutti e sciabordii inquietanti, ma non priva di accenni armonici, affioranti sotto forma del perturbante romanticismo veicolato dalla profondità degli archi e di note pianistiche solo occasionalmente amalgamate.
Nel complesso, potrebbe apparire come una sorta di colonna sonora ibernata in cristalli ghiacciati di bellezza quanto meno sinistra; tuttavia, al di là dell'attitudine visionaria ricorrente in molti dei suoi dodici brani, "Varde" conferma l'inclinazione di Jansen a una tecnica compositiva incrementale, tutta incentrata su una stratificazione di elementi nella quale la stessa origine dei suoni tende a scolorare fino a confondersi in una coltre spessa e inestricabile. Per quanto field recordings, esili giochi di dissonanze, archi e pianoforte si intersechino talora ad assumere una più omogenea fisionomia di dark-ambient orchestrale (“Svanesang”, “Råk”), più spesso sono gli stessi elementi ad esaltare l'habitus spettrale di composizioni volutamente irregolari e in continuo divenire.

Ne risultano saturazioni armoniche di matrice neoclassica ed echi di detonazioni rumoriste, che anziché sfociare semplicemente in veri e propri drone vengono piuttosto giustapposti a note elettroacustiche in seducente moto circolare, come ad esempio nel caso delle ottime “Uranienborg” e “Fandens Bre”. In questi e altri passaggi, l'apparente evanescenza dei suoni riesce a sostanziarsi in maniera più percettibile in una marea densa e soverchiante, espressione perfetta del senso di oppressione e impotenza alla base del lavoro. Se tuttavia i paesaggi disegnati da Jansen e il particolare metodo alla base delle sue composizioni non differiscono sostanzialmente da "Sistereis", rispetto al primo episodio della trilogia, in "Varde" si percepisce una maggiore fluidità complessiva, che dona al lavoro un senso di solenne compattezza sonora e quel tocco di varietà - indispensabile a rifuggire l'eccessiva piattezza espressiva - qui rappresentato in particolare dal flebile movimento impresso dagli inserti cameristici e da note pianistiche in alcune occasioni relativamente lievi (“Arvesølv”, “Uranienborg”, “Sovnens Kvelertak”).

L'immaginario d'elezione di Jansen permane avvolto da tenebre senza fine, tuttavia "Varde" sembra indirizzarne l'esplorazione verso un'ambiziosa quadratura del cerchio, in grado di riassumere la sua poco lineare concezione della musica ambientale in dense sinfonie elettroacustiche dal fascino tetro.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Dmute
"Si nous avions vécu, j'aurais eu une histoire à raconter, de l'audace, de l'endurance, et du courage de mes compagnons qui aurait bouleversé le cœur de chaque Anglais." Voici les dernières notes que Robert Falcon Scott écrivit avant de périr dans les neiges de l'Antarctique. C'est au début du XXème que se tint la course au Pôle Sud. Sa conquête fût d'autant plus convoitée que les nations, bouffies d'orgueil, affichaient volontiers les exploits de leurs compatriotes. L'expédition de R. Scott n'est pas celle qui s'y essaya la première, ni même celle qui foula la première le centre du pôle. Elle est pourtant celle qui marqua le plus profondément les esprits de l'époque.

R. Scott tenta, avec son équipe, de pousser plus loin la première percée de Shackleton effectuée quelques années auparavant. Il parvint à atteindre le pôle, mais pour y trouver le drapeau d'une équipe norvégienne qui l'avait devancé un mois plus tôt. Dépités par cet échec, lui et ses quatre hommes tentèrent de rejoindre leur campement de base. Les mauvaises conditions météorologiques, quelques écueils logistiques et une bonne part de malchance eurent raison d'eux.

Varde désigne ces monticules de pierre que l'on retrouve en Bretagne, en Écosse, en Irlande, et dont on suppose qu'ils étaient érigés à la mémoire des guerriers morts au combat. A l'instar des films et ouvrages qu'a inspiré le tragique destin de R. Scott, ce deuxième album d'Elegi s'appuie sur les notes du capitaine pour en relater l'histoire ; un hommage qui s'incarne cette fois dans un travail audiophonique. "Pour cet album j'ai invité quatre musiciens au violon, à la scie musicale, aux percussions d'orchestre et à la contrebasse" explique Tommy Jansen, l'homme derrière Elegi. Cette collaboration permit selon le norvégien "d'apporter plus de dimension et de couleur à l'histoire".

En résulte une collection de titres oscillant entre modern classical, dark ambient, et field recording. Outre les nombreuses évocation du blizzard polaire que l'on s'attend évidemment à y trouver, Tommy Jansen propose quelques mises en ambiance participant du côté narratif du disque. Varde introduit l'album à pelletées de neige, Arvesolv laisse imaginer les coups de maillet sur les piquets de tente, et ainsi de suite. Si l'on ne saisit pas systématiquement l'apport de chaque enregistrement, l'atmosphère dégagée est en revanche une parfaite réussite. Le travail mêle paysages et sentiments humains. On y devine le froid oppressant, la beauté glaciale des paysages Antarctiques, la déception que pouvait ressentir l'équipe de R. Scott lorsqu'elle se vît tenue en échec par l'expédition norvégienne, la solitude de ses hommes coincés dans leur tente, au milieu des neiges, et leur résignation à accepter une mort inéluctable.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ondefixe
Annoncé comme étant le second volet d'une trilogie couvée par le sépulcral label Miasmah, Varde a puisé son inspiration désolée et glacée dans une histoire centenaire au dénouement tragique : l'expédition conduite par le Capitaine Scott
en Antarctique, qui se solda par la disparition de son escouade, et
dont les corps furent retrouvés quelques 8 mois plus tard momifiés par
la glace.

Pour retranscrire le panel d'émotions ressenties par cette équipe d'explorateurs (isolement, peur,
incertitude, fascination, épuisement), le norvégien Tommy Jansen aka Elegi<
Friday, January 16, 2009 

 







Photobucket





 

I'm happy to say that "Varde", the second installment of a trilogy on Miasmah was released today. Head over to your favourite record store, or get it from Boomkat.


"Varde" tells the story of the pioneer polar explorers who risked their lives to go to some of the most hostile places on earth, to 'triumph', over the elements. The music explores the feelings those brave men must have felt, as they went into the unknown, well aware that they might never see their families again. Ice cold winds and blizzards, creaking ice, stormy waters, constant hunger, isolation, disease and death, provide the basis for the music, depicting the immensity and scale of these great white landscapes.

I like to operate in the area between composed and improvised music, but you might find this one to be a bit more composed than "Sistereis". As most of my work the sound-design is just as important as a composing element as the instruments, chords and melody.
On this album i worked with four guest musicians on violin, musical saw, orchestral percussion and double bass, which added more dimensions and colour to the story. As with "Sistereis", Skodvin has made some brilliant and unique artwork for it.

Wednesday, January 09, 2008 

THE WIRE

It's possible that Norwegian musician and studio engineer Tommy Jansen has any number of hobbies, but the one flagged up in the publicity for this, his debut album, is wreck diving. Fair enough: collecting rare vinyl or playing board games wouldn't inspire the sense of crushing pressure and deep, slow moving danger that he achieves with Sistereis.....

The seafaring link is made explicit by the title – a term referring to a ship's final voyage and by moody monochrome packaging featuring images of lighthouses and fictionalised ships' logs recording mysterious deaths. The music inhabits similar terrain to that of founder Erik K Skodvin's own Svarte Greiner, with acoustic instrumentation electronically shaped into mood pieces that draw back from the narrative arcs of post-rock, but lie to heavy on the ear to be considered Ambient. A restless foreground of rustling, breath and footsteps evokes human intimacy while slow piano lines reminiscent of Max Richter's The Blue Notebooks summon up sepia-toned decay and nostalgia.....

All this is dwarfed by an undercurrent of low frequencies which seemingly herald impending doom, while the metallic squeaking on "Fyrtårnet part 1" and swelling drones, like tide-wracked timbers, suggests that at any moment a ragged sailor's skull might lurch into view. "Interbellum", whose glassy, drifting harmonics echo medieval church music, is one of a few tracks where the Pascals decrease and the murk lightens. But, for the most part, Sistereis revels in its oppressive, whale-sized atmospherics, and rightly so.....

Abi Bliss



-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



BOOMKAT

In the last year or so the Miasmah label (run and curated by Deaf Center's Erik Skodvin) has become one of the most respected, well loved and bestselling labels offering up the kind of home listening so popular with so many of you. The catalogue has been pristine - with releases from Greg Haines and Rafael Anton Irisarri in particular encapsulating that indefinable magic that happens when modern classical sensibilities are filtered through the hands and ears of producers with a wider experimental horizon. But it's this latest album from Norway's Tommy Jansen (aka Elegi) that stands out as the label's most startling, original and breathtaking release to date. Jansen spends his time wreck-diving - a pursuit which involves deep-sea diving into shipwrecks, exploring the forgotten graveyards of another time. The album's title 'Sistereis' even refers to this pursuit; it is the word for a ship's final voyage before it sinks and this haunted, waterlogged theme is transferred beautifully into the music itself. I'm sure you've all dunked your head under water when swimming before, and listened to the sounds of the surrounding area as they filter through litres and litres of chlorinated liquid; this muffled, bubbling mystery is apparent throughout 'Sistereis', the whole album coming across like a radio transmission from beneath the sea. In fact, the album could easily be the follow-up to Svarte Greiner's absolutely epic 'Knive', an album which set the bar for the steadily growing 'acoustic doom' movement, and where 'Knive' was akin to a murderous venture into the dark woods, 'Sistereis' is a similarly bloody sub-aquatic voyage. It could be almost puerile to mention the words 'cinematic' or name-drop Angelo Badalamenti yet again, but it's never been more appropriate; Tommy Jansen creates a damp and half-seen world of his own with tempered electronics, decaying accordion sounds, deep resonating cellos and layer upon layer of collected field recordings (many taken from his deep sea explorations). It's almost like listening to the ancient ghosts of Viking long-boats, lost Victorian cruise-liners or swarthy Pirate ships, replete with rattling chains and creaking bows, yet this isn't a purely dark and depressing experience, there are glimmers of light and hope between the scratches and scrapes, a sense that this is a record which reveres history rather than being frightened of it. 'Sistereis' is another crucial part of the steadily expanding Miasmah catalogue, and proof that the label is quickly becoming one of the most essential on the planet - prepare yourself for a foggy trip into mysterious climes, it's one you won't regret taking, even if you never return! Essential purchase.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

THE SILENT BALLET

One of my earliest and most vivid memories is being beneath the murky water of a lake. The water was so thick with algae and cloudy matter that I couldn't see my feet below. I was a poor swimmer and , despite my feeble attempts, I remember slipping helplessly into the darkness around me.  I thrashed at the bottom, my young limbs battling the water around me in an effort to reach the surface.  Then I remember, most clearly, the surface of the water above me and the beauty I neglected to realize in my panic.  I saw the summer sunbeams breaking upon the surface of the churning, muddy, green water littered with sediment.  In that moment, captivated by the beauty of this experience, I was transfixed and completely calm.  There were years in that moment and I felt I could linger there forever.

Norway's Tommy Jansen (aka Elegi) album Sistereis on the Miasmah label (run by Deaf Center's Erik Skodvin) encapsulates the feeling of the submersion described above with distant, ambient and often brooding sounds.  The ten tracks fit together seamlessly, creating a narrative tangled with a myriad of haunting aquatic images.  The album's title follows its theme; a word used for a ship's dire final voyage. 

The record is the first in a dark trilogy with each element based around historical events and times. Jansen, a classically trained musician and experienced sound engineer, has created an album with concentrated attention to a congruent theme with specific intentions for the listener. Smothered, though unambiguous, sounds conjure images of sinking ships, drowning orchestras, isolation and painful reflection on the ghosts of the past.  The ebb and flow of each track is ushered by minimal, lingering organ and piano drenched with sadness, and deep sonorous cello passages that undulate through the background. Muffled, fading aquatic noises of docked boats beaten by waves, the creaking of old planks, dripping, and distant gulls are also meshed with numerous electronic elements throughout.

Though Sistereis lacks a specific melody, there is an obvious theme and direction that Jansen points us in that is neither banal nor bromidic, but dynamic and subject to change in intensity at various points. Each track on the disc has a seamless flow of emotionality that takes the listener into the dank water.  The listener does not become a voyeur but almost a traveler, an active member, of the waterlogged triumphs and tragedies narrated by the album.

Rating: 7.5/10 (Stephanie Johnson)

------------------------------------------------------------------------

FOXY DIGITALIS

One of the most intense experiences of my – admittedly rather unspectacular – life was when I went snorkeling off the shores of Bali and Jordan and suddenly saw the blurred but dark silhouette of sunken ships lying on the ground of the ocean. The water's constant movement seemed to let the wrecks shiver, an uncanny coldness seemed to evaporate from the ships' remains. It was an encounter with the sublime that virtually stopped my breath. I never dared to go down, not even on one of the blatantly advertised wreck-diving trips.

Tommy Jansen does dare to go down. And when he explores the shipwrecks, he records the sounds of the deep sea to capture the atmosphere of abandoned ships, human vanity and beautiful decay. On "Sistereis", his debut album as Elegi on the always fascinating Miasmah imprint, he puts layer upon layer of these field-recordings (which are, of course, anything but, if you take the term literally) and adds modern classical instrumentation: ghostly piano melodies, droning cello and subtle electronics. It is by no means a surprise that the resulting subaqua-concept-album is put out by Erik Skodvin's label, as "Sistereis" comes very close to the acoustic doom that Skodvin invented a few months ago under his Svarte Greiner moniker. In fact, "Sistereis" intensifies Skodvin's approach in that it is even less complaisant, more cinematic and more concrete when it comes to the images that the tracks conjure in the listener. In other words, "Sistereis" is the missing link between Wolfmangler, Xela's "Dead Sea" and Svarte Greiner.

It has to be said, however, that surpassing its forerunners in narrative extremism and borderline-field-recording-exoticism doesn't make "Sistereis" the better album. Greiner's "Knive" album still remains unrivalled in uncanniness, mostly due to the fundamental openness of tracks like "The Boat Was My Friend" or "The Dining Table". The more concrete moments (that horrible sawing in "My Feet, Over There", the limping steps in "The Black Dress") got even more attention, standing out as traumatic landmarks in an eerie dreamscape. "Sistereis", however, doesn't want to tell a story, but its story, the story of a ship's final voyage (the meaning of the Norwegian album title) before it sinks. That's still scary enough and Skodvin's artwork is a congenial supplement, but after repeated listens there is still a sense that Jansen doesn't quite make the most of the superb material he has at hand. That said, "Sistereis" is still a singular experience and it's uniqueness should make it an absolute must for anyone interested in modern classical composition, doom, or electronic ambient.

Rating: 8/10 (Jan- Arne Sohns)

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

MAPSADAISICAL

A release by an artist going under the name of Elegi on the Miasmah label was highly unlikely to be a set of Disney covers, was it? I think this (highly rational) prejudice may have coloured my first exposure to Sistereis. I swear I spent an hour picturing squealing puppies being taped to the deck of a sinking ship. I couldn't imagine wanting to listen to it again. I did listen to it again though, whilst walking at dusk through an alien park in a foreign town.  From the second "Despotiets Vesen" sneaked (snuck?) from Deathprod vaults (think Treetop Drive) to the moment "Spill for Galeriet" counted down to the end of its existence somewhere on a gloomy grassy heath, I found myself warming to the record's icy charms.  The immaculateness of the execution (bad choice of word, oh those poor puppies!) can't fail to impress; every brush of string, every breath of brass seems placed there just so, and just so as to interfere with the more nervous parts of my nervous system.

 

------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

ONDAROCK

Non si conosce granché di Mr. Tommy Jansen aka Elegi. Tra le poche notizie, apprese sul solito Myspace, la nazionalità norvegese, la sua passione per le immersioni subacquee in cerca di relitti e altresì che "Sistereis" (termine che indica proprio l'ultimo viaggio di una nave prima di affondare) si presenta come primo capitolo di una fantomatica "Trilogy Of Doom", di cui sembrerebbe già pronto in rampa di lancio un seguito. Poi? Che il disco esce per una delle etichette più interessanti al momento, la Miasmah di Erik Skodvin (Deaf Center), sugli scudi nei primi mesi del 2007 per gli ottimi lavori di Greg Haines e Rafael Anton Irisarri.
Ora, dato per nota di colore il mistero che aleggia su questo singolare personaggio, avrete sicuramente capito che si parla di ambient music, di quell'ambient plumbea, a tratti opprimente, con nette e benvenute derive verso la contemporanea. Sì, insomma, il classico dischetto leggero da ascoltare sotto l'ombrellone...

Scherzi a parte, pare ormai evidente, e non solo dal presente album in verità, che il linguaggio Type Records - cui le release Miasmah si ricollegano per motivi "genealogici" oltre che stilistici - continua a fare proseliti, ed Elegi ne cristallizza al meglio gli stilemi. Ciò si realizza in un suono complesso, giocato sulla stratificazione, sull'incastro di elementi eterogenei, siano essi acustici, elettronici, o addirittura concreti. L'iniziale "Despoties Vezen" come pure la successiva "Fyrtårnet Part 1" forniscono immediatamente precise linee guida in tal senso, con atmosfere evocative attraversate da fruscii di sottofondo piuttosto inquietanti. Sensazione ancor più angosciosa lungo gli oltre tre minuti in apnea rumoristica di "Skumring", a doppiare le soundtrack orrorifiche di
Xela.

Se da un lato appare chiaro il debito nei confronti di esperienze post-industriali, ravvisabile nel ricorso a processi di sintesi e decontestualizzazione, non si può tuttavia negare che il buon Jensen riesca a trovare una via alquanto peculiare alla sua sperimentazione. Così la maggior parte dei pezzi rifuggono da una concezione lineare in cui la musica prende forma via via per addizione, sposando invece l'idea di una gestalt sonora, di un tutt'uno indipendente dalla somma algebrica delle parti.

"Dauingene", "Sistereis", "Fyrtårnet Part 3" sono fotografie di paesaggi, certo oscuri, ma di una magnificenza indicibile, dove la bellezza del particolare cede il proscenio alla pienezza scenografica della visione globale. Tra le poche eccezioni, "Time Lapse", costruita sull'accumulazione progressiva di frammenti "concreti" intorno a una ben distinguibile linea melodica di piano, e l'impalpabile, "Interbellium", splendidamente inebriata da brezze
fennsziane… per una endless darkness.
Per avventurarsi in un viaggio mentale dalla destinazione sconosciuta.

Rating 7.5/10 (Antonio Ciarletta)

 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

TEXTURA

Norwegian Tommy Jansen (aka Elegi) likes to wreck-dive, a hobby that helps lend Sistereis its distinctive aura (the title refers to a ship's final voyage). Jansen incorporated reels of underwater recordings he made during dives—supposedly, he believes the reels capture the "ghosts of the shipwrecks"—into the album's ten pieces, giving the album an idiosyncratic and unique field recordings character. Jansen typically couples piano and cello figures to the clank of a ship's rusty chains ("Skumring") and the shuffle of skeletons dragging their bones along the deck ("Time Lapse").

Much of the album's 'musical' character centers on the cello's deep groan, though even it often drifts in a woozy waver that mimics the ocean's slow rocking motion. The material might best be classified as strongly atmospheric, field-enhanced soundscaping augmented by neo-classical compositional writing. A mood of slowly unfurling dread is sustained throughout despite the shift in focal point from cello to piano, organ, and harmonium. Representative of the album, "Despotiets Vesen" shrouds minimal piano melodies in dark string ambiance. In the title piece, the low moan of a clarinet resounds against haunted creaks, clanks, and shuffles while, in "Spill for Galleriet," the voice of an old woman, perhaps recalling her husband's doomed voyage from a decade long past, brings the album to a suitably haunted close. Mention should be made of "Interbellum," a meditative setting of gleaming church organ tones which is especially lovely. One of the areas where Jansen most succeeds is in his original evocation of the sea; rather than literalizing it by deploying clichés like splashing waves, Jansen opts for a thoroughly submersive approach, such that one feels as if one is floating through the murky depths, scanning for life-forms or sunken ships. The cello-generated creaks deepen that feel, and even sometimes suggest a whale's murmur ("Fyrtårnet part 3"). Though not perhaps designed to be heard as such, Elegi's Sistereis makes for a perfect companion to Xela's The Dead Sea.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ether Real

Pour son premier album, le Norvégien Elegi trouve refuge sur Miasmah, label lui-même norvégien et tout à fait en résonance avec l'ambient teintée de néo-classique que nous propose Tommy Jansen.

Effectivement, dès le début de Sistereis, on retrouve ces ambiances déjà croisées à plusieurs reprises ces derniers mois : accords de synthés formant une nappe en arrière-plan, quelques micro-triturations métalliques ou type bruits de pas et notes éparses de piano au premier plan. De même, on a le droit à ces inquiétantes lignes de violoncelle accompagnées de grincements (Fyrtårnet Part 1, Fyrtårnet Part 2, le morceau-titre) ou à ces étranges sonorités issues d'un cuivre (Dauingene) à même d'en rajouter dans la dimension légèrement anxiogène de l'ensemble. Dès lors, face à cette accumulation de matériaux déjà bien connus, qu'attendre d'un tel album, hormis, et ce n'est déjà pas rien, une interprétation probante capable de faire naître une certaine émotion ?

De toute évidence, Elegi fait preuve, sur Sistereis, de qualités indéniables : capacité à ne pas trop en faire, à toucher sans en rajouter, à agencer avec habileté les différents éléments utilisés, à se faire aussi convaincant sur quatre minutes que sur huit. Pour autant, on ne peut s'empêcher de regretter une forme d'absence de prise de risque dans ce choix d'un style musical déjà bien balisé, regrets qui altèrent notre jugement sur un disque qui, quoiqu'il en soit, demeure agréable, notamment pour les lecteurs pas encore rompus à ce genre musical.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------


MAUMAU UNDERGROUND

Una vez más, el sello Miasmah viene directo a satisfacer nuestros deseos de sonidos clásicos oscuros, acuáticos y solmenes. Este label comandado con mano maestra por Erik Skodvin (mitad de los también radicales Deaf Center) está mostrando un talento innato para dar con artistas anónimos, modestos y pequeños capaces de autografiar obras perturbadoras, extremadamente técnicas y a su vez conmovedoras, a medio camino entre el aislacionismo, la composición contemporánea, la música de cámara y el ambient más orgánico. El último de sus apadrinados es el también noruego Tommy Jansen, a partir de ahora ya conocido por todos nosotros como Elegi, un personaje misterioso y sombrío que invierte buena parte de su tiempo en el submanirismo, el buceo, la amnea y, sobre todo, la inspección y estudio de los barcos abandonados en la inemsidad del gran azul. El dato no debe quedarse como una anécdota exótica, sino que adquiere relevancia primordial una vez has escuchado este sobrecogedor "Sistereis". Por momentos uno tiene la impresión de que Jansen ha compuesto gran parte de las canciones sumergido en la profundidad del océano, en ese ambiente de oscuridad comfortable, silencio profundo, soledad épica y tristeza bajo presión al que debe enfrentarse cada vez que se enfunda el traje de neopreno y desaparece del mundanal ruido. Elegi une en su ideal sonoro instrumentos como el chello o el piano y creaciones electrónicas a partir de sonidos y texturas que se diría que él mismo ha grabado y sampleado de las profundidades del mar. El efecto, la sensación, es radical e inolvidable: una experiencia incomparable hoy por hoy en el epicentro de los artistas neoclásicos que sabe conjugar la misantropía del estudio con la grandeza de la naturaleza escondida en un trabajo meticuloso, complejo, ambicioso y atrevido que deja huella. Disco esencial. David Broc


-------------------------------------------------------------------------


CALEIDOSCOOP

Welk label de maat bepaalt voor melancholische kwaliteitsmuziek wisselt bij mij nog wel eens. Vroeger is het 4ad label een graadmeter en later labels als Kranky en Type. Sinds een tijd krijgen ze zware concurrentie van Miasmah, dat gerund wordt door Erik Skodvin (Deaf Center, Svarte Greiner). Na uitmuntende releases van Greg Haines, Encre, Rafael Anton Irisarri en de verzamelaar Silva is er nu weer een prachtige vijfde cd uit op het label. Sistereis is het debuut van Elegi, het project van de Noor Tommy Jansen. Grote hobby van deze Noorse melancholicus is wrakduiken. Het is dan ook niet verwonderlijk dat zijn muziek de desolaatheid en mysterie van de grote dieptes van de zee in zich herbergt. Zoals je verwonderd je kunt laten imponeren door alles wat er onder water gebeurt, zo onderga je ook zijn muziek. Sistereis, dat ook zoiets betekent als de laatste reis van een schip naar de verdoemenis, is de eerste uit een "trilogie van doom". Het behoort tot het zogeheten akoestische doomgenre, dat zo typerend voor het label is. De muziek bestaat uit prachtige soms haast verstilde pianopassages, aangevuld met ambient, veldopnames, experimentele en klassiek klinkende geluiden. Waarmee de geluiden precies tot stand komen is op de piano na niet helemaal duidelijk, maar dat maakt de muziek alleen maar mysterieuzer. Dikwijls wordt de muziek rond de pianoklanken opgebouwd, maar tevens bestaan diverse stukken uit duistere drones met vermoedelijk een cello. Alsof je in het diepste punt van de oceaan zit, waar al het geluid een mysterie lijkt. Het desolate en melancholische geheel is een betoverende mix van Giacinto Scelsi, The Caretaker, Arvo Pärt, Earth, Xela, Deaf Center en het zijproject Svarte Greiner, verpakt in een David Lynch-achtige productie. Het zorgt keer op keer voor een adembenemende diepgang en onbeschrijflijke schoonheid. Eén van de mooiste platen van 2007 tot nu toe. Jan Willem Broek


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------


MUSIQUE MACHINE

Sistereis carves out an atmosphere that evokes ill fated ocean bound trips, faded photos of long dead loved ones pulled from sea salt depths, and eerier ghost ships cutting their way across dusk purpled skies. It mixes together slow dieing beautiful piano textures, sinister jazzy touches, doomy sea salt bass rumbles and sun bleached modern classical tones.  All under washed by creaking, cull call and all maner of eerier noise matter. Despotiets Vesen opens the album in fine eerier dead-body-floating form, mixing together haunted and pretty melancholy piano folds with creaking, footsteps and creepy organic sound fare, coming off like some of Ulver's piano led soundtrack work. Later on Fyrtärnet Part 2 ushers us on board the deck of a corpse strewn creaking fishing boat, birds pick out there sky set eyes, crabs scuttling in their lulling mouths, and you can hear distant laughter and lost hope screams from down bellow. The whole album does evoke such potent and often dead bound feelings, even the sunniest day seems some how surreally sinister and washed out as this plays out its life.
An excellent boat full of gloomy sea bound dread, which mangers to be varied and very competent, especially when you take in to account this is the project first release.

Rating: 4/5 (Roger Batty) 

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------


DE:BUG

Ein Opfer der Obsession. Tommy Jansen taucht in seiner Freizeit nach Schiffwracks und stellt den Kampf auf See um Leben und Tod ins Zentrum seines Debut-Albums, das auf Miasmah nicht nur bestens aufgehoben ist, sondern für das Label nach all dem Wohlklang von Rafael Irisarri auch ein verschrobenes, deutlich darkeres Kapitel aufschlägt. Norwegische Schwermut. Zu düster gestrichenen Drones mischt Jansen Fieldrecordings von knarrenden Planken, ächzender Takelage und dem kompletten Universum anderer Geräusche, die man auf See hören kann. Immer wieder aufgebrochen von ruhigen Piano-Passagen entwickelt sich ein dichtes Netz aus Sound, bei dem man nie weiß, ob man sich jetzt beruhigend fallen lassen kann, oder doch lieber weiter auf der Hut bleiben sollte. Aber Jansen kann noch mehr. Plötzlich dröhnt aus dem Unterdeck ein trauerndes Kammerorchester und dann, es ist mittlerweile sehr neblig, kommen doch noch die Toten an Bord. Ein unglaubliches Hörspiel. Rating: 5/5 (Thaddi)


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------


HISSIG

Den femte og hittil siste utgivelsen på Miasmah kommer i form av debutalbumet til norske Tommy Jansen, som i tillegg til å være musiker også driver med vrakdykking på fritiden. En aktivitet forbeholdt de relativt få, men opplevelsen kan lett forestilles seg: Den dørgende stillheten, sollyset som flimrer over det morkne treverket eller det overgrodde metallet og vannet som hele tiden glir forbi utgjør et skue som selv i bildeform innbyr til merkelig tvetydige følelser. De gamle skipvrakene er riktignok fotogeniske, men skjønnheten har en tragisk undertone, og man får en følelse av å være et sted hvor tiden har stått stille, en uvelkommen gjest i mennesketomme ruiner nå befolket av fisk og sjødyr. Grunnen til at jeg dveler såpass lenge ved dette emnet, er at temaet ligger så dypt forankret i Sistereis at det nærmest er uatskillelig fra selve musikken. En gjennomført dunkel stemning gjennomsyrer alt fra artistnavn til coverdesign, og CD-heftet inneholder sørgmodige, svakt deformerte bildecollager og uhyggelige journalfragmenter. Stemningen er med andre ord vel etablert lenge før man setter skiva i spilleren. Det lydmessige på skiva kan med litt god fantasi høres som musikk Jansen har reddet opp til overflaten under dykkingen sin, de siste sørgesangene til en gjeng skabbete sjømenn fullt klar over den endelige destinasjonen som venter skuta deres. Enkle pianomelodier danderes over klagende cellotoner, akkompagnert av en subtile elektroniske elementer og skritt, klirring og andre lyder av menneskelig aktivitet som merkelig nok bare gjør det hele mer ensomt og forstyrrende. Alt dette er vevet inn i en dunkel lydtåke, som på en utmerket måte klarer å gi det hele en maritim følelse uten å inkludere de klisjeerte opptakene av måker og bølgeslag, samt å tilføre musikken en foreldet eim som står til de gammeldagse melodiene og instrumenteringen. Skiva er for det aller meste instrumental, og kommer over som en besnærende mikstur av klassisk og mørk ambient. Bare ved en anledning dukker en menneskelig stemme opp i miksen, da Jansen lar en monolog av en gammel kvinne avslutte skiva på en vemodig, men gåsehudfremkallende måte. Kort sagt er Sistereis en bra gjennomført stemningskive, og musikken er av et så høyt kaliber at det blir givende på andre måter enn som ren stemningsmusikk. Temaet skiva er basert på innbyr til refleksjon, og måten musikken maner fram kolliderende stemninger og følelser gjør det til en perfekt plate å drømme seg bort til. Det lille rykket man får når skivas femtifire minutter er over og man plutselig blir dratt opp til overflaten igjen tyder på at du har gjennomgått en reise som vil sitte i deg lenge, og som du vil komme til å ta flere ganger.

Emil Øversveen


----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 


DOTSHOP Dark modern classical meets acoustic- doom meets bone- chilling blood drenched Lynchian soundtracks. ACOUSTIC-DOOM SOUNDTRACK - SUGGESTIVE, MOODY, BEAUTIFUL, SCARY *** Every release on Erik Skodvin's Miasmah label could be the better soundtrack to any serious spiritual mystic thriller, horror, sf or paranormal-induced drama. Hollywood should get rid of their too many old boring established soundtrack-makers with dated plug-ins and hockey-haircuts. Hey, do the world a favour and go go go unravel these revelations instead. Miasmah and Skodvin's Deaf Center are one of the frontrunners of a new generation of truly gifted makers of under-the-skin mood music, post-classical compositions and post-ambience soundscapes.


--------------------------------------------------------


SMALLFISH

Deaf Center's Miasmah label really does operate below the radar! I knew nothing about this until the day before it came in. Once again, you'll be unsurprised to hear, it's an immaculate album that concentrates very much on the beautiful side of contemporary leftfield music. Elegi delivers a series of luscious pieces that are classical, modern, yet timeless and full of a charmingly mournful sounds. Long, deep string sounds and melodic piano motifs are layered together with a melancholy undertone and some lovely sculptured tones. Essentially this is another exquisite album really and fans of the previous releases on the label will simply adore it. Recommended. 


-------------------------------------------------------------------


RATATOSK

Elegi is Tommy Jansen en de ambient die hij creëert wordt ook wel acoustic doom genoemd, wat omschreven wordt als een samenkomst van de donkere kanten van modern klasssiek, black metal en Angelo Badalamenti-achtige soundtracks. En geloof mij, dat is schitterend!

"Sistereis" is een zeer sfeervol album waarop geen mindere tracks aan te wijzen zijn. De muzikale trip waar Erik ons langs leidt is hypnotiserend, wonderschoon en allesomvattend. De nummers glijden soepel in elkaar over en dit is zo'n album dat in je cd-speler lijkt vast gelijmd: ik luister het album meerdere keren per dag en het album lijkt geschikt voor zeer veel verschillende gelegenheden: om rustig mee wakker te worden, om op de achtergrond aan te zetten bij een goed gesprek, om geconcentreerd te beluisteren in een donkere kamer en om bij in slaap te vallen. Echte uitschieters zijn voor mij de nummers 'Time Lapse' en 'Interbellum'.

In het sfeervol vormgegeven boekje staat een logboek-achtige verhandeling over een zeevaart. Het interessante is dat dit sterk bijdraagt aan de muzikale ervaring. Ik kan me wel eens irriteren aan muzikanten die instrumentaal werk afleveren en vervolgens middels tekst de sfeer proberen te bepalen. De teksten van Elegi las ik echter pas nadat ik het album meerdere malen intensief had beluisterd en in plaats van een vooropgelegde sfeer, verbreedt de tekstuele uitbreiding eerder de luisterervaring.

We zijn fan van Biosphere, we zijn fan van Objekt4. En Elegi schaart zich snel in dit rijtje.


----------------------------------------------------------------------------------


ONDEFIXE

Qui dit Elegi dit élégiaque, tel ce piano esseulé ouvrant ce bal mortifère, dialoguant avec des cordes d'un cinéma Lynchien souillé de sang séché. Sans détour, cette ouverture nous plonge dans les abysses d'un océan obscur, dans les fonds marins que le norvégien Tommy Jansen explore et pour lesquels il se passionne, allant même jusqu'à sampler ce qu'il peut y entendre. Tirant inspiration de ces territoires que la lumière ignore, Tommy tisse des ambiances claustrophobes, hantées de fantômes, faites de nappes et drones flippants, de mâts et coques qui craquent, de métaux qui claquent, de bulles de piano dépressif et de notes caverneuses (violoncelle, corne et mélodica basse fréquence ?). En cours de plongée, une once de clarté perce Interbellum de son doux méli-mélo de notes flûtées et cristallines. Mais ce rai de lumière furtif, cette unique et menue bulle d'oxygène nous replonge rapidement et définitivement dans ces immensités angoissantes regorgeant de cadavres.Parfait compagnon funèbre et ténébreux du Knive de Svarte Greiner, Sistereis n'a décidément rien d'accueillant ou de rassurant.

 

Rating: 6,5  (Sébastien Radiguet)

 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


SENTIREASCOLTARE

Eine Symphonie des Grauens ovvero A Simphony Of Horror  era il sottotitolo del primo leggendario Nosferatu di Murnau. A Simphony Of Horror  è anche una sorta di sottotitolo che Tommy Jansen, in arte Elegi, ha dato al suo primo disco. Sistereis è il parto artistico dell'ultimo guerriero gotico arruolato da Erik D. Svodkin. Concepito dopo numerosi viaggi in barca, nel pieno delle tempeste marine, al largo dei fiordi della penisola scandinava, Sistereis è un lavoro che si fa suggestionare dal mare e che condivide con l'ultimo disco di Xela un neppur tanto vago sentore di angoscia e fine imminente tra i flutti. Questione di venti e onde in tempesta, legni scricchiolanti, balugini di fantasmi e tetre architetture atmosferiche. Elegi è qui per rinfrescarci dalla calura estiva con un freddo e raggelato alito di morte. Come dicevamo non molto tempo fa, la scena del doom acustico e orchestrale del Nord Europa è in gran fermento e trova proprio nei Deaf Center e in Svarte Greiner le pietre miliari intorno a cui costruire una sequela di variazioni di registro intriganti e per il momento mai banali. Distribuite dall'etichetta stessa di Svodkin che è sempre più il mecenate e l'oscuro scrutatore di questo stil novo del gotico, le nuove pagine scure di Elegi vanno a ricongiungersi direttamente a quelle di Knive. E' musica che fa della suggestione la sua principale ragion d'essere. Preme per allestire un mood piuttosto che una struttura. Un disco dove i vuoti hanno più importanza dei pieni e che vive del rapporto contiguo tra rumori spartani presi dall'ambiente (fruscii, scricchiolii, crepitii, ecc.) e le sparute note di piano e organo che cercano di salvare una vaga idea di armonia. Svarte Greiner in questo è ancora più radicale, ma anche più grezzo. Elegi riesce a far convivere meglio gli elementi ma non raggiunge il maestro nella costruzione di insieme. Stiamo comunque li e di tutti i seguaci di Svodkin, Elegi è di sicuro il principale indiziato per una resa a lungo termine, infatti ha già fatto sapere che Sistereis è soltanto il primo disco di una trilogia del doom di cui si aspettano a questo punto, con trepidante e rabbrividente attesa, i successivi capitoli. Rating: 7/10  (Antonello Comunale )


------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



VITAMINIC

Tommy Jansen, in arte Elegi, dev'essere di certo una persona dall'animo cavernoso. Probabilmente figlio di un licantropo e di un mostro sottomarino, Tommy sprizza nebbia da tutti i pori.
Ne è una prova inconfutabile il suo album Sistereis
, uscito di recente per Miasmah.
Esso compare ai nostri occhi sotto forma di inquietanti paesaggi vuoti, fatti macerie, di oggetti fracassati e semisepolti nella terra. Lo ascoltiamo in cuffia, abbandoniamo tutte le nostre attività, ci dedichiamo solo a quei suoni affascinanti ed ipnotici. Gli ultimi istanti del tramonto ci soprendono intenti a cercare un riparo. Il panico e successivamente il terrore si fanno largo nella nostra mente, mentre cala la notte.
Rimaniamo soli, senza un appiglio. C'è solo il suono lontano di un pianoforte, accompagnato da fruscii sempre più insistenti, claustrofobici. L'aria è densa di un'umidità soffocante.
Sistereis
è un incubo lynchiano, un disco gemellabile con The Dead Sea di Xela.
Sedie che scricchiolano alle nostre spalle, trincee abbandonate, vascelli fantasma; sono solo alcune delle immagini che esso evoca.
Fuggiamo dietro un albero, nel disperato tentativo di evitare delle ombre minacciose.
Ne percepiamo la bellezza. Sono fluide. Grottesche. Sublimi.
Siamo dei bambini persi in una tavola in bianco e nero di Miyazaki.
Elegi sta contemplando immobile le sue creature. E' seduto comodamente su di una barchetta lignea che fluttua a mezz'aria, a qualche metro da noi.
E' innocuo. Ha lo sguardo beffardo di un genio.


---------------------------------------------------------------------- 


Arcana Noctis

"Sistereis" is the fantastic debut from Elegi, a project by Norwegian producer, composer, and recording engineer Tommy Jansen, who spends his free time as a shipwreck diver. Evidently, it is this hobby of his that is the inspiration behind "Sistereis". The name of the album itself is a word that refers to a ship's final voyage before sinking, and every song here perfectly captures that feeling. Full of atmosphere and mood, this is an incredibly haunting album that manages to transport the listener to another place – a gray world devoid of hope where the only thing in sight is miles and miles of open ocean, perpetually circling the icy waters at the top of the world. Occasionally, dark forms break the surface, but you are alone here in this alien world.
The album's brief opener, "Despotiets Vesen," starts off with subtle bowed strings which go together to make a simple yet effective chord. Trailing in the wake left by the strings are minimal piano notes, stark and wandering as if lost at sea. The melodies created are lonely, but not really hopeless; sad, but not really depressive. There is no discernable rhythm or beat at first, just pure expressionist wanderings. The strings fade away then swell back in, as if being pulled by the tide. Throughout all this play field recordings which sound like they were made at a dock. Wood creaks as the tide comes and goes and shivered breathing is heard as though made by someone who has just left the icy water. The piano very gradually builds with the strings, making slight crescendos and decrescendos, yet the piece as a whole never loses its atmosphere. Everything is fantastically put together, the piano melodies painting a picture of complete isolation against the backdrop made by the strings, which back away at just the right times to let the piano stand out and swell in perfectly at other times to create wonderful harmonies with it. This song alone could be stretched out to make up the entire album and it would still be amazing, but just as quickly as it comes, it fades away, leaving a lasting impression on the listener.
Not all the tracks on this album are as melodic as the opener, however. Many are very close to dark ambient music in terms of atmosphere, utilizing sounds more than melodies. "Fyrtårnet part 1", for example, starts with murky low-end strings (perhaps a cello or similar instrument) bowed into a droning smear of black slime which soon becomes the backdrop upon which odd creaks and high-end noises are applied. Odd alien noises drift in and out as though through a thick fog accompanied by metallic grating noises. "Fyrtårnet" parts 2 & 3 are similar odysseys, equally dark and icy, unsettling and foreign.
"Time Lapse", the standout track on "Sistereis", is equally as fascinating as the album's opener, yet perhaps slightly better due to its longer length, more detailed composition, and richer textures. The piece starts briefly with recordings of what sounds like someone searching through their belongings – footsteps, taps against wood, paper sheets being flipped through, a box opening, etc. Perhaps it's a person getting their bare essentials before hurriedly leaving somewhere for good, or maybe something else – a captain looking through old photos as his ship sinks. A few seconds into the piece, after the first taps of the field recordings are heard, the piano comes in. It starts off subtly at first – delicate, single note lines that add a very interesting melodic depth to the piece, occasionally being treated with very subtle shimmery noises. Soon, lower notes ease in smoothly beneath the piano melody, creating beautiful, lonely chords. The ambience gets thicker and thicker – background noises that sound like brushes being scraped across a snare drum go together with the music to create an almost jazzy feel. Though dark and lonely, it feels strangely peaceful, too. This piece sounds less like a lament of one's current situation and more like a celebration of the past. It is like a captain sinking with his ship and accepting his fate, not fighting it, choosing instead to think back on all the memories he'd had on that ship and how it had served him. Together with the next track, the surprisingly uplifting "Interbellum", "Sistereis" creates a nice intermission to the album, a short break from the oppressive atmosphere of everything else found on it.
Not enough good things can be said about this album. Honestly, every song on "Sistereis" could be a highlight. Each one has something to offer, either melodically or atmospherically, and paints a perfect picture for the listener. Relax, close your eyes, and filter out any other distractions, and the music on "Sistereis" becomes a portal to another world – a dark dreamland devoid of color. Each song is a different tale and a different place waiting to be explored. In this story, you are the main character. You are the captain lost at sea, the one abandoned by your crew. But you don't live to tell the tale. Tommy Jansen is the shipwreck diver who discovers your story and tells it for you. That story is "Sistereis". Rating: 9/10    Colin Williamson


------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------