At times I enjoy concrete sounds arranged to fit an issue or a main idea. At other times I loathe it deeply. On what the decision depends is as of yet completely beyond me. Swedish composer Hanna Hartmann has spent a long time travelling the globe, collecting sounds and impressions and then constructing concrete musical pieces from this source, intended for art spaces, radio broad cast or theatrical productions and collected various prices and awards for it. In her soundpieces the place of origin of the sounds plays an important role but she will free the sounds from their geographical boundary and incorporate them in some new meta-understanding of their birthplace, which in turn might bring the listener to a new understanding of his own location on this globe. Rarely ever does concrete music in the most narrow and consequential sense, evoke emotions so realistically yet so deeply provoking the wandering of the mind. I can almost feel the cold breeze rolling in, across the deck, into my thick overcoat and down my neck while listening to ³Longitude². And during ³Cratere² I am almost certain of feeling the rocks underneath my shoes and the sting of the sun on my neck. Strange, because I have never been near a volcano nor on a sailing boat in the Baltic sea, but that¹s where the sounds for these two long pieces by Swedish composer Hanna Hartmann come from. Sounds, that she records, collects and then reassembles without touching or mixing or deconstructing them too much. So the grim atmosphere and the brooding and mostly ominous eminence of the cold Nordic oceans remains tangible throughout. The metal in the rail screeches and the body parts of the ship emit crackling noises that mix with the sound of the ocean. Other than that there is silence and room to breathe, look and think, while the pulse of the ocean sinks in and takes over your own heartbeat. Indeed, we are somewhere between Justin Bennett for verisimilitude, John Hegre for not being afraid of harsh noise interruptions and Cordell Klier for the glacial pace and oceanic silence. The music is not as organic and gentle as it might appear from what is written above. One of the more remarkable features of these two tracks is the almost cubist score that Hartmann lays down. Elements are often unnaturally cutoff or appear with a harsh cut that would never happen outside mechanics and art. But maybe it is this mix of natural evolution or growth and the abrupt intrusion of distorting elements that produces that almost spooky and eerie atmosphere that lingers on during ³longitude² as well as ³cratere². For instance towards the end of ³longitude² it is the sound of sea gulls that takes you back on deck of the sailing boat you started on, after the harsh noise and hidden pounding of metal on metal took you away from it. Did I mention that the sounds to ³longitude² were recorded aboard ships trailing longitude 013°26¹E? ³cratere² is all about sounds record at the volcano Etna in Italy, though unlike the seagulls of ³longitude² you won¹t hear it right away. The wide open almost silence sounds at the beginning of the track nevertheless instantly hint at something gaping. A big hole is what it is. The other sounds used are not so easy to decipher accordingly, from a muted piano or other string instrument to the rubble of stones to ghostly washes of wind in the background. I don¹t believe the ears are one of the more underrated senses, even if it is definitely true that most people have no idea how to listen. From the ipodded teenager in the subway to the old lady humming to herself, in our time of constant bombardment with sound (and information) it is refreshing and necessary to get out of the rat race at times, kick back and relax. In such moments, if you try to listen to the sounds that the world presents to you by itself, can really bring you back to grips with your real self. Not more than 75 years ago or so, music was only heard on special occasions, always meant an event and people were still able to listen to music. The ubiquitous surround sound is almost terrorizing. Therefore I am grateful for people like Hanna Hartmann, who have dedicated their life to exploring deeply into the meaning and effects of sounds as they come.
