The Faroese composer
Kristian Blak is one of the most versatile
and gifted composers to have made his
mark outside the North Atlantic archipelago.
Together with
his colleagues Sunleif Rasmussen and
Pauli í Sandagerđi, with some other
friends and colleagues, they might be
affectionately nicknamed “The Mighty
Handful from the Faroe Islands”. Blak’s
musical background is varied, with one
foot in the more popular world
of jazz and the other in the field of
‘serious’ music. His multifaceted background
also explains the compositional freedom
displayed in many of his concert works.
He has a varied and substantial output
in which chamber music for various instrumental
combinations is fairly prominent. The
backbone of his chamber output is –
without doubt – to be found in his four
string quartets (No.1 Rørsia
of 1985, No.2 Images of 1987,
No.3 Undirlýsi of 1992
and No.4 Contours of 2001, all
of which are available on several Tutl
discs). Orchestral music is not absent
either. Besides a number of concertos
and other orchestral works, his output
also includes several works for ensemble,
some of the most recent of these are
recorded here.
Blak’s music is often
inspired either by Faroese nature or
the musical past through the use of
folk tunes as basic material. However
the basic idea for a composition may
also originate from other impressions
as well. This is the case in Úr
Hólminum, which, so the
composer tells us, is a sort of musical
journey through Faroese landscapes.
The music displays an often rugged energy
mirroring the scenery of the Faroese
western coast, and is full of abrupt
contrasts and not without grandeur.
Blak draws a formidable expressive range
from his limited orchestral forces.
In fact, all four works are scored for
sinfonietta rather than full orchestra,
and were all commissioned by various
renowned ensembles such as Avanti! from
Finland, Caput from Iceland, Aldubáran
from the Faroe Islands and Lys from
Denmark.
Hogboy,
a short concerto for double bass and
small ensemble is a commission from
the Northlands festival, Scotland. It
evokes Hogboy, a ghost reported to inhabit
the Orcadian stone age tomb of Maes
Howe on Mainland. Maes Howe is, with
other sites in the Orkney Islands and
all over the world, a place that appeals
to my "Machen-ish" frame of
mind. Here the historical past imposes
itself on the present with tremendous
strength and presence. Consequently,
this piece, based on a poem by the Faroese
poet William Heinesen, could not but
appeal to me in the same way as John
Ireland’s Legend or Will
Todd’s Saint Cuthbert.
The music sets out to illustrate the
poem, without being overtly programmatic;
unfortunately, Heinesen’s poem is not
printed in the notes. The music, however,
speaks for itself, and colourfully conjures
up the various moods of Hogboy.
On the other hand,
Vienne la nuit, a miniature
horn concerto, draws on two lines from
Apollinaire’s celebrated poem Le
pont Mirabeau - a poem that also
inspired Durey’s Poème
for piano. It is cast as a short Nocturne
with a somewhat minimalist, but very
suggestive beginning leading to more
impassioned music.
The final work Shaman
is rather different and, on the whole,
more ambitious. It aims at evoking a
long-forgotten past through a sort of
shamanic journey. It draws on a number
of elements, not only from the Faeroes
but also from many countries in Eastern
Europe, Asia and even Australia all
of which at one time lived under the
shaman’s ruling spirit. This is reflected
by the use of a number of unusual instruments,
such as Lithuanian bark horns, didgeridoo,
Jew’s harp, shakuhachi and even straw
grass. Players are also asked to vocalise
on vowels. The music, however, makes
discrete but often telling use of these
unusual sound sources. The work unfolds
as a mysterious, timeless ritual, in
a manner
similar to that of Kutavičius’
“old pagan rites” (e.g. in his oratorios
From the Jatvingian Stone
and The Tree of the World).
Blak’s inventive and beguiling music
often brought that of the Lithuanian
composer to mind, and none the worse
for that. I consider Blak’s Shaman
as one of his most imaginative and searching
works, and – no doubt – one pointing
towards new developments in his musical
thinking. A major piece though by no
means easy.
All four works are
superbly played and warmly recorded.
They provide a good introduction to
Blak’s sound-world. A pity, though,
that the total playing time is so short.
Faroese music may be
known to many through a jolly tune used
by Grainger and Nielsen; but, believe
me, there is much more to it than that
as this very fine release amply demonstrates.
If you are interested in knowing more
about present-day Faroese composers,
I suggest that you seek out Cantus
borealis (BIS CD-1085) with wind
music by Blak, Rasmussen and their colleagues
and Landiđ
(Tutl FKT 7) with orchestral
and vocal works by Blak, Rasmussen and
Pauli í Sandagerđi.
Hubert Culot
Robert Sonne (double bass)b; Palle
Schou-Nielsen (horn)c; Caputad;
Det Jyske Ensemblebc;
Guđmundur Óli Gunnarsson (conductor)ad