Bedroom Community

Daníel Bjarnason is described as "the other classical composer" on Icelandic label Bedroom Community (alongside the acclaimed Nico Muhly) by the producer/conductor/label owner Valgeir Sigurðsson. Here we have two concertos, Bow To String and Processions, and one shorter piece, Skelja, which together comprise not only his first album release but also a challenging, at times astonishing collection of music. The two longer themed pieces each contain three movements. Bow To String I, "Sorrow Conquers Happiness", despite the name, seems more deeply rooted in ire than sadness, with its furious, frantic bowing, harsh abrasive percussion and atonal arpeggios. Blood To Bones, which follows it, is more mournful, evoking a windswept desolation, sparse and at times suspenseful. The suite ends with the magnificent Air To Breath, whose yearning minor key melodies and stately calm develop to such a pitch of intensity that the instruments seem to audibly sob at times, or shriek in pain at others. Processions starts with a crash that sounds so harsh, glass-strewn and actually painful that it can make the listener wince. This is cinematic, frightening, almost shocking music which, if its title is to be believed (In Medias Res), places one right at the heart of the non-defined yet clearly agonising drama being played out. Brief respite is lent by a softer piano-led section, but then this too ramps up again - the keys are being struck with an almost audible severity - to convey a maelstrom of emotions. Processions II, Spindrift is another of the album's high points with many moments of expansive, melodic beauty and a restful calm. Brass, strings, piano and woodwind all seem to merge and twist together, combining to produce a coherent, engaging whole. The final piece in the Processions suite - Red-handed - has a stately feel to its opening that does, in fact, sound processive. As the pace and urgency pick up, all tumbling galloping piano and tinkling percussion, there is a sense of imminent danger and swirling chaos just over the horizon. The final piece Skelja, presumably intended as a stand-alone item, is sparse, plucked and cold. Almost random-sounding twangs at different pitches and volumes appear and disappear or recur, and a slight background hiss or crackle is almost heard in the background. The piece has an otherworldly quality to it, with the rippling harp, and it is fitting that at its end it simply dwindles and ebbs away until you are left with silence. This is difficult, harsh music, uncompromising in its vision yet at the same time supremely skilled and often intensely evocative. It is anything but easy listening, but if you are looking for a soundtrack to a personal neurosis or emotional trauma, or even just seeking some kind of cathartic release by means of music then this is undoubtedly worth investigating.

Jude Clarke