Reykjavík Grapevine - 07.03.2008, Page 14

Reykjavík Grapevine - 07.03.2008, Page 14
14 | Reykjavík Grapevine | Issue 03 2008 | Reviews THEATRECONCERTCONCERT Dressed in their Sunday best, which in this case included top hats and tails, Hjaltalín took to the purple-lit stage at NASA in front of a dead silent crowd. With the dance floor occupied by chairs and the bordering wings crammed even tighter, the room appeared packed and tense. Warming up, Borko brought an unfocused simplicity of both lyrics and musicianship into a kind of hearty relevance but Ólöf Arnalds, making her post-maternal-leave debut, was almost im- possible to follow over a sea of chatter coming from the bar. With a sudden perky bounce, Hjaltalín launched into their set, the exultant exhibition of their first and recently released album, Sleepdrunk Seasons. Right from the outset it seemed clear that their music, regardless, is most effective, if not impressive, live. Their big- band sound is clean and wielded effectively so as to achieve not simply volume, but a kind of bigness. At the opening notes of, and the words, “Goodbye July,” there was a lively cheer and rustle through the crowd as people started stomping their feet and swaying feverishly from side to side. Though in some measure tiresomely optimistic, the song did stand on its own with a kind of catchy cohesion. It was an effect demonstrat- ed in only a number of the songs, while a few, like the following Kveldúlfur, remained irksomely vague and unassertive. The song I Lie deftly demonstrated the distinct charm and rus- tic depth in Högni’s voice, which managed to fill an endless amount of space despite being accompanied by a comparatively cut down lineup of instruments. With a standing ovation, the night ended in as much excitement as it had begun. The enthusiasm seemed exces- sive, but not unwarranted for a well-played and skillfully executed set; limited only perhaps by its seemingly endless and indiscrimi- nate optimism, but certainly not hindered by its exuberance. By Valgerður Þóroddsdóttir As Ólafur Arnalds and his four-piece ensemble trickled onto the stage of The Water Rats in London, something very rare happened - the entire audience risked a beer-soaked backside and got off their feet to sit down in some sort of act of recognition that this wasn’t going to be your average gig with loud guitars and a sweaty drum- mer. Accordingly, the band arranged themselves in classical quartet style, complete with sheet music on stands, while Arnalds sat be- hind a battery of electronic equipment and a piano to perform. ‘Fok’, one of the evening’s highlights, is typical of the music played by Arnalds; it has a simple, piano-based introduction con- sisting of single notes played in a slowly-evolving rhythmical man- ner with a harmonised riposte from the violins and cello, eventually building to a complex crescendo with synthesised percussion add- ing a modern feel to a piece of music that might otherwise sound at home on an old film noir soundtrack. Other tracks, or should we call them works, such as ‘Himininn er að hrynja’, show a slightly more thoughtful aspect to Arnalds’ music with modern elements - sampled vocals and other percussion effects erupting from his lap- top - becoming more prevalent, as is the case on much of ‘0040’ and ‘3055’. Like a classical recital, the evening’s highlights are the art of composition and musicianship on display rather than individual songs. Arnolds’ individual tracks do not stand out from one another easily, so the overall impression is one of restrained respect for mak- ing consistently palatable, classically-influenced music rather than wild admiration with arms flung in the air at a favourite song or cho- rus. The type of music Olafur Arnalds plays won’t win any awards or trouble the charts in any way, but it certainly made people do something rarely seen at a gig - stop completely and listen to every note in near-silence. By Ben H. Murray It’s the all too familiar scene: naked over oatmeal, the lesbian airing out her yeast infection in the kitchen. “There’s nothing wrong or ugly about this!” she shouts defen- sively, surrounded on two sides by gawking audience members on Vesturport’s elaborate tree-house stage. To fans of Lukas Moodysson’s Swedish comi-drama Tilsam- mans, on which the play is not so loosely based, the scene is in fact startlingly familiar. The rest of the production’s skeletal story line ought to be too, a little too familiar in fact, as the superficial highlights of the film’s plot rigidly unfold to a rather underdeveloped and newfangled Icelandic cultural context. Hinging on regurgitated comic climaxes and punch lines, the play only sporadically and su- perficially indulges in its own interpretation of the film’s idealistic assertions and plot. Yet even as it gets lost trying to establish its own personal char- acter outside of the film’s shadow, the production is by no means fruitless, and manages to be entertaining through to the end. The production’s primary disappointment lies in its indifference to the sensitive nature of language, casually overlooking Iceland’s innate xenophobia, even as the subject subtly takes centre stage. Speaking in English to accommodate the foreign actors, many of the Icelan- dic performers continually stumbled robotically through their lines, while Elena Anaya and Gael García Bernal, also speaking in a sec- ond language, remained gracefully unspoiled by overconfidence in their language. Not wanting to rest its fate entirely on its success at rehashing the film, the play nevertheless seems to depend on and demand the comparison. Ultimately it is the distinct spirit of the film that is left wanting, misplaced perhaps, somewhere along with a winning cul- tural subtext; in this case, the not so familiar Icelandic character. By Valgerður Þóroddsdóttir Hjaltalín Ólafur Arnalds Kommúnan Photo by GAS When: Febuary 14, 2008 When: Febuary 14, 2008 When: March 4, 2008Where: NASA Where: The Water Rats, London Where: Borgarleikhúsið C M Y CM MY CY CMY K midi-concerts.pdf 4/11/07 10:55:30 AM Ivanovby Anton Chekhov Direction and adaptation: Baltasar Kormákur See and hear more on www.leikhusid.is An unforgettable performance ÞJÓÐLEIKHÚSIÐ The National Theatre of Iceland

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