Iceland review - 2019, Blaðsíða 28

26
Iceland Review
Every city with a healthy music scene will inevitably
feature a handful of so-called “session players,” musi-
cians that become the go-to people when someone
wishes to put together a music event, be it a wedding, a
recording session, or an impromptu jam session.
These session musicians tend to share certain
traits: they are great players, they seem to know every-
one, and they’re up for anything as long as the music is
interesting and there is a little bit of money involved.
In short, they’ve made it their job to support others in
achieving their musical vision.
Over the last 10 years or so, bassist Ingibjörg Elsa
Turchi has become one of the most sought-after
session players in Iceland. Born in 1988, she’s played
with too many projects to mention at this point. She is
involved in the theatre, has shared stages with artists
as diverse as Emilíana Torrini, Bubbi Morthens, and
Mr. Silla, and is one of the founders of Iceland’s Girls
Rock! music camps (which, as our readers will know,
have had a tremendous impact on the Icelandic music
scene). A bit of a polymath, Ingibjörg, who is half-Ital-
ian, also holds a BA degree in Latin and ancient Greek
and has worked as a language teacher and translator.
In conversation she is thoughtful, jovial, and
relaxed, with an infectious laugh. But spend some
time with Ingibjörg and it quickly becomes apparent
that her everywoman exterior is hiding a sensitive and
hyper-intelligent artist underneath. And as she tells
Iceland Review, after many years of serving others,
she has recently opened up a new chapter in her life as
a solo artist with the release of her Wood/Work EP in
2017.
Starting out
As Ingibjörg explains to me over a drink of Skyr boost,
her music education started early. “When I was six, I
started my studies on the recorder, which I actually
continued to study until the age of ten. After that I
tried different instruments, piano, accordion, and
the guitar before dropping out of music school as a
teenager. There were a few reasons, I was into playing
soccer. But there was also a fateful moment in music
theory class where we had to write a song of our own,
and I just quit! I was already such a perfectionist at
that age that I just couldn’t do it!”
This led to Ingibjörg’s break from music for a few
years. But in junior college she met some friends who
wanted to start a band, and she joined as a multi-in-
strumentalist, eventually falling in love with the bass.
The band was Rökkurró, a popular indie post-pop/
rock band that released albums and toured through-
out the early 2000s. This eventually led to other tour-
ing engagements, like stints with Swedish-Icelandic
folk duo My Bubba.
Discovering the bass
Soon, Ingibjörg realised that she wanted to play the
electric bass full time. “It’s a very varied instrument,
and actually one of the youngest instruments. So its
full potential remains unexplored. I was excited by
this!”
For three years she’d play the bass non-stop, listen-
ing to records, trying to emulate the playing of bass
greats like Motown’s James Jamerson. Eventually,
she enrolled in FÍH, Iceland’s main music school, and
started playing with everyone who’d have her.
“For the longest time I said yes to almost every-
thing! Now I’ve finally reached the luxury place where
I can afford to focus on a handful of projects and give
them my full attention. I’ve also gained the confidence
to release my own music, which I didn’t feel up to
before. It’s like I feel I finally have something to offer.”
She’s being modest. But it’s certainly true that
by now, Ingibjörg is considered a true professional,
revered and loved by her coterie of collaborators and
friends. As drummer Magnús Trygvason Eliassen
(another session mainstay) tells me, “she’s just such an
honest person who plays music for the right reasons.
Her own music is great and she’s super fun to be
around and eat bagels with!”
The Dos and Don’ts of session playing
When I ask Ingibjörg what the secret is to becoming
such an in-demand session player, she laughs self-dep-
recatingly, as if I’m mad for even asking her. Then she
goes silent. “I guess being co-operative and ready
to try different kinds of music,” she finally offers.
“And just regular stuff like being punctual and well
rehearsed.”
But as anyone who’s played music for a living, or is
in any way a part of the gig economy, it’s not always
easy to juggle many jobs at once. Does Ingibjörg ever
dream of a steady 9 to 5?
“Depends on where I am, mentally,” she says. “I try
to take care of my body and mind. There was a period
where I wasn’t taking care of my body and wasn’t mak-
ing sure that I had down time to just hang at home and
relax, that’s when things kinda went awry for me in
terms of anxiety. But after I got those elements under
control, I realised I wouldn’t want to be doing anything
else, that the job was worth doing. I just had to be a
little more organised and make sure I was healthy. I
actually like organising, so I’m lucky in that respect.”
The music of language
Before she started playing the bass full-time, Ingibjörg
also worked as a translator and taught ancient Greek
in her junior high. “I love languages, but the bass is
number one at the moment,” she says.
Is there a connection in her mind between music
and language? “Yeah, there is definitely a common