KETIL BJØRNSTAD - Sunrise-A cantata on texts by Edvard Munch
ECM 377 0032
Kari Bremnes (vocal); Aage Kvalbein (cello); Matias Bjørnstad (alto saxophone); Bjørn Kjellemyr (double bass); Hans-Kristian Kjos Sørensen (percussion); Ketil Bjørnstad (piano); Oslo Chamber Choir; Egil Fossum (conductor)
Recorded April 2012
This is a magnificent release from pianist Bjørnstad, with an immediate appeal upon first hearing that does not pall with repeated listening. Bjørnstad has dug deep and produced a work of complexity, yet speaks directly and succinctly, that explores the emotions from joy to sorrow that is at the same time remarkably optimistic and uplifting despite the sometimes destructive influences present in the life of the subject of the music, Edvard Munch.
Edvard Munch (1863-1944) was the Norwegian painter who also had aspirations to be a writer, and it is his texts, rather than the paintings, that are the inspiration for the music presented here. The texts in question are also inextricably linked to the paintings, as Munch had a habit of putting thoughts in writing about his proposed work prior to starting on it, often in the form of short prose describing his subject matter and what he envisioned.
Released first in Norway in November 2013 in connection with the 150th anniversary of Munch’s birth, Bjørnstad’s music captures in exquisite detail the sentiment of Munch’s musings, and brings to prominence the underlying optimism that can be found in the texts. The music is presented as nineteen separate tracks with six of these being relatively short, and comprising of ‘Restitativ I-III’ and ‘Intermezzo I-III’ and these are interspersed throughout the programme as short interludes. The force and violence within ‘Restitav I’ and ‘II’ is starkly at odds with everything else that is heard and comes as quite a jolt; whilst the ‘Intermezzo’ pieces are three duets for cello/alto, cello/piano and alto/piano are quite lyrical and reflective.
The main vocalist here is Kari Bremnes whose voice soars above the instrumental backdrop and on pieces such as ‘The Mother’ conveys Munch’s feelings about his childhood and the death of his mother in a way that draws the listener. Bjørnstad’s writing for the choir, that is superbly arranged by Egil Fossum, is a triumph blending effortlessly the voices with the ensemble, with a wonderful use of separation between the male and female voices (especially effective when hear through headphones). This unusual instrumentation combined with the voices even works when the take on a more traditional role, and kick things up a notch on ‘The Earth Loved the Air’, and the lilting rhythms of ‘The Cliff’.
The cello’s opening statement on ‘Open Window’ and the way it accompanies the voice of Bremnes is quite beautiful. Indeed the role of the main soloists, alongside the voice, of Aage Kvalbein’s cello and the straight classical sound of Matias Bjørnstad’s alto saxophone again highlight and contribute greatly to this impressive music that conveys both the depth of feelings imbued in Munch’s texts and the vivid and colourful drama of his paintings.
Reviewed by Nick Lea
ECM 377 0032
Kari Bremnes (vocal); Aage Kvalbein (cello); Matias Bjørnstad (alto saxophone); Bjørn Kjellemyr (double bass); Hans-Kristian Kjos Sørensen (percussion); Ketil Bjørnstad (piano); Oslo Chamber Choir; Egil Fossum (conductor)
Recorded April 2012
This is a magnificent release from pianist Bjørnstad, with an immediate appeal upon first hearing that does not pall with repeated listening. Bjørnstad has dug deep and produced a work of complexity, yet speaks directly and succinctly, that explores the emotions from joy to sorrow that is at the same time remarkably optimistic and uplifting despite the sometimes destructive influences present in the life of the subject of the music, Edvard Munch.
Edvard Munch (1863-1944) was the Norwegian painter who also had aspirations to be a writer, and it is his texts, rather than the paintings, that are the inspiration for the music presented here. The texts in question are also inextricably linked to the paintings, as Munch had a habit of putting thoughts in writing about his proposed work prior to starting on it, often in the form of short prose describing his subject matter and what he envisioned.
Released first in Norway in November 2013 in connection with the 150th anniversary of Munch’s birth, Bjørnstad’s music captures in exquisite detail the sentiment of Munch’s musings, and brings to prominence the underlying optimism that can be found in the texts. The music is presented as nineteen separate tracks with six of these being relatively short, and comprising of ‘Restitativ I-III’ and ‘Intermezzo I-III’ and these are interspersed throughout the programme as short interludes. The force and violence within ‘Restitav I’ and ‘II’ is starkly at odds with everything else that is heard and comes as quite a jolt; whilst the ‘Intermezzo’ pieces are three duets for cello/alto, cello/piano and alto/piano are quite lyrical and reflective.
The main vocalist here is Kari Bremnes whose voice soars above the instrumental backdrop and on pieces such as ‘The Mother’ conveys Munch’s feelings about his childhood and the death of his mother in a way that draws the listener. Bjørnstad’s writing for the choir, that is superbly arranged by Egil Fossum, is a triumph blending effortlessly the voices with the ensemble, with a wonderful use of separation between the male and female voices (especially effective when hear through headphones). This unusual instrumentation combined with the voices even works when the take on a more traditional role, and kick things up a notch on ‘The Earth Loved the Air’, and the lilting rhythms of ‘The Cliff’.
The cello’s opening statement on ‘Open Window’ and the way it accompanies the voice of Bremnes is quite beautiful. Indeed the role of the main soloists, alongside the voice, of Aage Kvalbein’s cello and the straight classical sound of Matias Bjørnstad’s alto saxophone again highlight and contribute greatly to this impressive music that conveys both the depth of feelings imbued in Munch’s texts and the vivid and colourful drama of his paintings.
Reviewed by Nick Lea