The most revealing
sentence in the programme book is not
to be found in Stefan Österjö’s
essay on what might be understood by
the word ‘Rhizome’. In the biography
section, it states that ‘Lindwall has
been called the foremost representative
of the "neo-complex" school
in Sweden.’ To cynics this means ‘squeaky-gate’
music, and for those appalled by apparent
atonal meandering sugared with a garland
of intellectual posturing, you have
my permission to leave the room and
have a nice time in the pub.
FX. Chairs slide back,
falling and scattering with haste; footfalls;
door slams.
I’m the only one left?
Rotten lot.
Christer Lindwall has
nothing to say on the subject of his
work in the booklet notes, and as previously
mentioned, the contents are described
and commented on by one of his champions,
the guitarist Stefan Österjö.
Lindwall’s biography confesses to a
‘contact with jazz while still a teenager’,
and little touches suggest that these
influences stir not so far under the
surface. A Certain Ratio has
nothing to do with the pop group of
the same name. It does however present
the string quartet in a raw accompaniment
of glissandi and hacking clusters (prime
Arditti territory), and has the guitarist
scribbling sounds into the air with
‘a choreography of movements over the
fingerboard of the instrument, a complex
interplay between motion in different
dimensions such as tonal color, pitch,
density, and viable transit.’
"In other words,
unplayable…"
Hey, I thought you
guys had gone to the pub?!
"Yes, we were
going to go, but we felt sorry for you
and wanted to see you suffer at the
same time."
Rotten lot; ignore
and persevere. Earth Bow is ‘music
in the no-man’s-land between serial
construction and intuitive sonorous
composition.’ Some of the sounds and
textures, aided by an electric guitar,
trumpet and saxophone, seem to hark
back a little to what you might find
on a free improvised jazz album. What
you will make of it depends entirely
on your own attitude and response. I
can’t help imagining the hilarity which
would ensue if it were to have been
performed at a Hoffnung
concert – such are the ‘modern music’
stereotypical gestures which are the
overriding impression.
Silence. I think they’ve
really gone now – can’t blame them ...
En millimetre av
ljus (One Millimeter of Light) is
for guitar and six instruments, and
is ‘the logical ending point for a body
of work that had its foundation in a
figure of thought that consumed the
composer for much of the 1990s, namely,
the dissolution of logical progression.’
There seems to be some kind of compression
or limiting going on with the recording
of the guitar here. Remember playing
those old dbx noise reduction tapes
played back without the dbx switched
on? Anyway, ‘"En Millimetre av
ljus" is the title work of an unpublished
poetry collection by the writer Torbjörn
Dahlander, and the title is the only
part of the poem known to the composer
...’
"We’ve brought
you back some beer."
Oh great! Thanks, I
need it – wait there, I’m nearly finished…
Wenn sie so, dann
ich so und Pferd fliegt is a quote
from Vladimir Nabokov’s novel ‘Pnin’.
It begins with plucked bass, and has
that piano, electric guitar and muted
trumpet thing going on which brings
me back to that improvised jazz feel.
The timbres here are for me among the
most interesting on the CD, with nicely
orchestrated tuned percussion, and restrained
and atmospheric moments giving the impression
of musicians actually listening to each
other, rather than performing written
notes.
The final piece, White
Nights is for alto guitar and chamber
orchestra. The title alludes to ‘sleeplessness
and nightly watches’ rather than any
literary reference, and with the guitar
serving a ‘hidden governing role’ rather
than at the forefront as in a conventional
concerto, there are some interesting
things going on. As the chronology goes,
at least it can be said that Lindwall’s
work is developing and, to my ears,
improving. The larger ensemble, with
harp and piano sonorities and a brass,
percussion and woodwind ripieno suit
Lindwall’s language, giving it increased
depth and range. Longer periods of introversion
allow the sonorities to develop, and
I like Lindwall’s wide-spread chord
technique. ‘Slowly emerging structures’
account for the extended duration of
this piece, which has almost enough
to say for itself to prevent it outstaying
its welcome.
I believe the Phono
Suecia website has sound clips, so –
try before you buy. I’m off down the
pub ...
Dominy Clements
Stefan Österjö (alto guitar), The Gageego!
Ensemble/Pierre-André Valade 
