Johann Johannsen: Arrival, Orphee, and the Icelandic Essence

Being a fan of heady, philosophical sci-fi, I assumed that sooner or later I would eventually see Arrival.  The love affair that I had last year with the Interstellar soundtrack had also left a void, so it seemed fitting that I should check out Arrival’s score.  In my opinion, the best soundtracks can stand on their own compositional merit without being attached to the action of a movie.  This paradigm was cultivated in, and perhaps limited by, the work of John Williams, but in recent years Hans Zimmer and Steve Reich have opened my ears to increasingly subtle uses of melody.  This increased interest in less “Neo-Classical” forms of film scoring cleared a path for me to readily appreciate Johann Johannsen’s soundtrack to Arrival.

Arrival, as a freestanding piece, is minimalistic but not minimalist, at least not in the mathematic tradition that Reich and Glass epitomized.  Melodic content is used sparingly throughout, with an emphasis on soundscapes and atmospheric textures.  This might suggest that Arrival veers towards mere ambience, but tastefully placed tension and non-orchestral timbres imbue it with a certain narrative capacity.  At its most intense, Arrival captures the austerity of Japanese Gagaku, while otherworldly murmurs and voices provides a sense of impenetrable, creeping alienness.

All of these ingredients are essential to the tone of the film and make Arrival a fascinating piece of sound sculpture.  More impressively, it sustains a narrative that allows it to work as a freestanding composition, but in a way more aligned with contemporary composition practices than the thematic leitmotif that I have often used to define a successful soundtrack.

I began to dig a little deeper and  discovered that Johannsen is quite prolific.  In addition to scoring quite a few films, he has also composed several freestanding works.  In the spirit of collecting some new music for late-night feedings, I put 2016's Orphee into rotation.  Like Arrival, Orphee is minimal but not really minimalist, using simple melodies can draw out a lot of emotion. For me, the first note of opening track Flight from the City, causes the world to slow down.  

I try the best I can to shy away from generalizations, but here is seems fitting: Icelandic musicians are able to capture something unique.  It is not difficult for me to imagine Jonsi from Sigur Ros vocalizing in his signature falsetto over Johannsen’s contemplative soundscapes.  This is not to say that Johannsen is copying Sigur Ros’ hyperbolic post rock, but that there is something essential that the two artists share, not the least of which is a tendency to blur the borders of “classical” music.  

Orphee bears this problematic label, but there are many aspects of the album that are in no way traditional.  While there are moments that pay homage to the eloquence of a Bach Cello Suite, these passages play out on a stage set by impossible background textures, buzzes, and static.  Like Arrival, Orphee seems to play with tradition and technology to widen the horizons of what “classical” music is.  The edges of these horizons will certainly be under scrutiny at 2 am when it is my turn to feed the newborn.

Which will happen very soon.  As I am finalizing this entry, I am in the Labor and Delivery room watching the birthing process slowly progress.  The birth of our son (referred to for the time being as #3), is imminent.  I cannot imagine ever receiving a more meaningful Father’s Day gift.

Dungen's Paradox, Allas Sak, and Closing Up Shop

There have been a couple of times in the history of this blog that I have attempted to capture the silent relief that hangs in the band hall after the school year has ended.  That stillness is quickly dispelled, however, by the long checklist of things that need to be done to actually wrap up the year and prepare for the next.  This list seems daunting at first, but the good news is that these are mostly solitary activities, which means I can provide my own soundtrack without fear of annoying anyone.  This year, I am blaring Dungen’s Allas Sak as I count instruments in my new band hall.

When I first discovered Dungen in 2006, I was immediately impressed with their unique blend of psychedelic, progressive, and classic rock.  They were able to evoke both dreamy wash of The Moody Blues and the muscular groove of Led Zeppelin, but effortlessly dodged derivation by way of their impressive tunefulness and musicality.  When I picked up Allas Sak in 2015 on a whim at End of an Ear Records, I was as impressed as ever.  It was more of the same great retro psychedelia that I remembered them doing.

Herein like the paradox, however, of Dungen.  There is a sense of sameness to their work.  On the one hand, it's all great, but superficially, there are relatively few surprises once the initial shock of how good they are wears off.  To get into their innovations from album to album takes investment, and sadly in 2015 I just didn’t invest.  I shelved Allas Sak with the intention of coming back to it.  This took over two years.  

Revisiting Allas Sak has reignited my admiration for Dungen, which is tempered by the guilty admission that I don’t give them the credit that they deserve.  They really do have something going on, especially on this album. If you are tired of struggling with the very real possibility that The Flaming Lips have jumped the shark, Dungen may be the cure. There are an abundance of riffs and soaring atmospherics and guitar, all of which are navigated with tasteful musicianship that rivals Pink Floyd's best work.

The elephant in the room, of course, is that when they aren't creating deeply melodic instrumentals, the band boldly insists on singing in their native tongue.  While I agree that they could be singing in total gibberish and I would still love them, I do have the somewhat selfish sense that gaining an understanding of their lyrics would deepen my appreciation for their music.  I don’t want him to sing a single word of English, however, because that would dramatically change Dungen’s identity.  Conversely, I don't really want to learn Swedish just to understand their lyrics, so I guess we are at a cultural impasse there.  

Allas Sak is echoing down the empty halls on the cusp of what has been one of the most difficult school years I've had in a long time.  Don’t misunderstand - the new job has been good.  Things are more positive in my professional life than they were previously, and there is the sense that they will get better.  Still, restarting this program has been stressful.  Still things aren't going to lighten up too much with a third child being born in a couple of weeks, but at least I won't be moving. Or trying to start a new program. Or trying to figure out how to make the program that I'm working in better. For just a few weeks I'll have a bit of a respite to really focus in on what is really important to me - my family.

Spring Semester Roundup: Setting Roots in Heavy Weather

A little over a year ago, in the midst of the job search and EJ’s impending birth, I got so far behind on the blog that I finally dedicated one of my quarterly roundups to just catching up.  I have been using the blog to explore my history in recent weeks, which has kept it active, but I am at the point at which all the current events in my life have stacked up.  I am overwhelmed as to where to start. This roundup, then, will not only serve to record the music I've been listening to since spring break, but also the myriad events that have been happening up until now.

I’ll begin with My 94 year old grandmother moving up to Denton.  She found a good independent living facility very close to our house.  It has been very good to see her more regularly, especially with the girls.  My parents were to move up shortly thereafter into a house they were building outside of Aubrey, and in the midst of this move, my grandmother fell and broke her hip.  Mom traveled back and forth between here and Austin help her through this ordeal while my Dad finalized packing and selling the house - a dynamic not unlike that of my wife and I last Summer as I started my new job.

Concurrently, we are mere weeks away from the birth of our third child.  While EJ’s pregnancy was more difficult for my wife in the first trimester, our son has been harder on her in the third.  She has been battling insomnia, sleepwalking, and, more recently, high blood pressure.  Bedrest is in the forecast.  To say that we are ready for him to be born is an understatement.  Even though there will undoubtedly be the usual sleep deprivation and stress that occur with a newborn, the impact that he has had on my wife’s health has been worrying.  I, for one, am ready to see her recovery underway.  

The glue that held this whole crazy situation together has been my parents.  As difficult as our move was last year, their move has been as difficult if not more so.  They have selflessly dealt with my grandmother’s rehabilitation and helped an incredible amount with navigating my wife’s condition.  I can't tell you how fortunate I am to have them.

So clearly, there's a lot going on, with this stuff mostly playing in the background:

Michael Giacchino - Rouge One OST: Giacchino  has the unenviable job of being the first composer score a Star Wars movie other than John Williams. He does a respectable job, and although William’s distinctive touch is noticeably absent, the Rouge One OST checks enough boxes to decently fit into the world’s musical canon.

High Tides - High Tides:  A low-fi sequel to M83’s Dead Cities, Red Seas, & Lost Ghosts.  It is perhaps a testament to the power of suggestion that analog synth music, which was once so closely associated with science fiction themes, could be employed so effectively to evoke a nostalgic Baywatch sunset.

Dungen - Allas Sak:  The biggest fault with Dungen is that they are consistently great, and due to that, paradoxically, I don’t give them enough credit.  I got Allas Sak a couple of years ago on a whim and it didn’t stick, but I revisited it and I think it is something special.

The New Pornographers - Whiteout Conditions:  Also another band that is consistently great and have never really released a bad album.  Although they have an identifiable sound, they are clever with finding new and subtle variations on this formula that make each album distinct from the others.

Mew - Visuals:  As far as the writing goes, Visuals is significantly more consistent than its predecessor +/-.  The distinctive guitar playing of Bo Madsen is noticeably absent, however, and I miss the angular grit that he contributed to the band’s dreamy atmospheres.

Seabuckthorn - Turns. There's something very unique about this album, which I bought with the intention of employing as a late night feeding soundtrack for kid #3.  Turns centers on acoustic guitar, but the environments did it creates reach way beyond any preconceived notions of an acoustic guitar album. .

Johann Johannsson - Orphee: Johannson’s haunting soundtrack for Arrival inspired me to investigate his freestanding works, again with number 3 in mind.  My wife thought it was Sigur Ros, which wasn’t really a bad guess - Orphee captures a similar Icelandic desolation.

Sounds in Between - Identity Crisis. This album includes one of my former bandmates from Ethnos. He plays the oud on the album, which is a beautiful instrument with a distinctive range that is very difficult to balance in a lead role in a more Western setting.