Search - Anders Jormin :: In Winds in Light

Odd, but exercises a weird pull on the listener

Jan P. Dennis | Monument, CO USA | 12/12/2004

(4 out of 5 stars)

"A Nordic spiritual song cycle sung almost entirely in Swedish? With the odd instrumentation of bass, church organ, piano, and percussion? Hmmmm. Certainly not my ordinary cup of tea. And probably not yours, either. Nevertheless, there's something mesmeric, something mysterious, something flitting at the edge of consciousness that causes this music, willy-nilly, to grow on one.



The product of a commission to compose new sacred music to be premiered in the Cathedral of Vasteras, Sweden, this music partakes of a variety of sources: classical lieder, new music, jazz improv, Scandinavian hymnody. The result, if not always completely pleasing--and, it must be admitted, often somewhat alien--nevertheless often enough resonates with previously heard musical sensibilities to establish a link with anyone even vaguely familiar with its antecedents.



Anders Jormin has proven over the course of numerous sessions as leader and sideman to be one of Europe's premier bassists. He doesn't disappoint here, with a variety of arco and pizzicato stylings that consistently engage and frequently arrest. Marilyn Crispel, a pianist almost always worth hearing, here adopts a rather minimalist approach to her instrument, hugely effective and evocative given the spare Northernness of the materials.



The make-or-break instrumentalist for most listeners will be Lena Willemark, vocalist. Since most of this disc is sung in Swedish, the majority of North American listeners will have no clue as to the meaning of what she's intoning (and the disc contains no translations of lyrics); we're left, then, to judge her performance on phrasing, timbre, and the conveyance of emotional content alone. On these criteria, she scores highly, constantly deploying a hugely evocative vocal palette, now whispery, not declamatory, which the supporting musicians absolutely lock into: there's a very distinct and quite beguiling mysterioso vibe all over this disc, even if one can't make heads no tails of its actual lyrical content.



I'm tempted to give this a full five stars, if just for its ability to corral and domesticate almost over-the-top weirdness. But I'm not going to, just because I don't see myself reaching for it on a regular basis. But I do have to admit that after several listens, its hidden glories do begin to make themselves abundantly clear. Can one give a rating of four-and-three-quarter stars? If so, that's mine. Otherwise, four and a half."

Intriguing and possibly enjoyable albeit disjointed and of P

Justin M. Trifiro | Wethersfield, CT United States | 08/13/2005

(4 out of 5 stars)

"Towards the end of the third track, one is liable to, Jesus, I don't know-grip the arm, twist the back, and hit the linoleum. Lena Willemark lets out a Scandinavian field cry that would make Birgit Nilsson recoil in sheer horror. Upon hearing this ostensible Swedish folk vocal tradition, I launched into a full blown buffo laugh, dropping the discman, waking the brother, and finding solace in living with my parents. Oh, Manfred Eicher, you crazy German you!"