Reykjavík Grapevine - 01.11.2018, Side 28

The R
eykjavík G
rapevine
Iceland A
irw
aves Special 20
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28
Kjartan Holm sits stock still,
gazing contemplatively into the
middle distance. “It’s gonna be
interesting to see how Airwaves
will be run this time,” he says,
finally. “I liked Harpa as a part of
the festival, but it could definite-
ly work without it. Maybe it’s a
bit too polished and bright—it’s
better to be at Gaukurinn, or some
darker places.”
It ’s yet to be announced
which venue Kjartan will play in
this year, but over the years he’s
played in many of the darkest.
First emerging onto the stage of
Airwaves in 2006 as a member of
post-rock band For a Minor Re-
flection, he has played every year
since, appearing more recently
as a member of punk outfit Tófa.
In 2018, he’ll perform at Airwaves
solo for the first time.
“My first solo show was at
Norður og Niður, the Sigur Rós
festival,” he says. “I’ve been ex-
perimenting—hopefully by the
time Airwaves comes I’ll have it
figured out,” he smiles. “No prom-
ises though.”
Film noise
Kjartan’s solo work—located
somewhere between contem-
plative composition, ambient
post-rock and drone/noise—is
a departure from his energetic,
raucous band projects. It began
during some time spent living
in Berlin under the tutelage of
Hildur Guðnadóttir and the late
Jóhann Jóhannsson, when he
started some solo experiments
during studio downtime.
“I just started making some-
thing,” he says. “And the results
are this album. I’m not sure what
I should call it—I say it’s noise
music but it has pretty moments,
orchestration, guitars, some
percussion. If it wasn’t so noisy
it could be film music, but you
have these cinematic moments,
then these industrial moments,
then diatonic ambient moments.
If anyone can find a title for this
music, I’ll be thankful.”
Ocean sound
Although he speaks fondly of his
time in bands, saying ”everyone
should try it,” Kjartan finds a dif-
ferent kind of creative release in
his solo work. His album, “Amu-
sics,” is a hypnotic, sculpted,
impressive block of sound; the
culmination of his band projects,
studio work, and a long-standing
interest in noise.
“I wrote my thesis on noise and
how noise affects the mind,” he
says. “It’s used for baby monitors,
to soothe a baby. There’s a reason
we like the sound of the ocean—
it’s pure white noise with no to-
nality. It’s a spectrum, sweeping
all the frequencies all at equal
volume, so we can’t distinguish
anything, but it’s nice. I’m curi-
ous whether this kind of music
can have this kind of influence on
people—music that’s really loud,
but puts you in a good place.”
Too much freedom
Reaching this good place has tak-
en some time. “I think I’m finally
doing something I’ve been mean-
ing to do for so long, but I hadn’t
found the time or reason for it,”
says Kjartan. “Getting to know
Jóhann and Hildur, and learning
from them, and getting to know
the insane pressure that comes
with major Hollywood stuff, you
really learn how to appreciate
your own time better.”
The limitations of working on
high-pressure film projects was
actually the catalyst for Kjartan’s
solo work. “Having too much free-
dom is maybe not always the best
thing,” he says. “I personally need
deadlines, or I’ll just have a panic
attack and produce nothing.” He
pauses, staring into the middle
distance again. “It can be the best
thing in the world, or it can tear
you apart.”
KJARTAN HOLM
THU 8th, 17:30, 12 Tónar
FRI 9th, 19:40, Bryggjan Brugghús
“There’s
a reason
we like the
sound of the
ocean—it’s
pure white
noise.”
Kjartan Holm explores orchestral noise
Words: John Rogers Photo: Hörður Sveinsson
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