Erlend Apneseth
Nova
Hubro
2022
Another winner from the ever-reliable Oslo label Hubro. Hardanger fiddle player Erlend Apneseth has spent much of the last decade collaborating with the likes of labelmates Frode Haltli and Stein Urheim and compatriot Margit Myhr or melding free folk, improvisational jazz and modern composition as part of his inimitable Trio. Nova is his first solo album since his 2013 debut Blikkspor, and on the face of it, it seems like an exercise in getting back to basics. But that doesn’t really do it justice. Apneseth’s artistic practice has always been about pushing the boundaries of his instrument and forging new and unexpected pathways between disparate genres, and while Nova is, by his own admission, his most personal piece of work, it never shies away from the exploratory spirit that has defined his career.
Immediately noticeable on the opening track Ly is the clever incorporation of background noise. Hiss and echo pervade the album’s first seconds before the stately fiddle unfolds. It is clear that Apneseth was wise in his choice of location for the recording of the album (the unique vaulted tomb of Emanuel Vigeland in Oslo: a beautiful, perhaps macabre setting whose walls are covered with eight hundred square metres of frescoes). It is a place of quiet corners, detailed patterns and strange lights, and much the same could be said for Apneseth’s compositions. While this is folk music at heart, its uniquely spatial perspectives prove that it still has experimentation in its soul.
Apneseth’s playing seems to draw equally from the storied history of his chosen instrument, the timelessness of his surroundings and a distinctly modern approach to his material. He is willing to explore the fiddle beyond the capacity of its bow and strings: Fall is full of percussive taps and plucks, while bashes and clunks make the brief Framand feel like a ghostly intrusion. Palmyra embraces a warmer palette but draws warped sounds out of its sunnier colours.
There are moments of intense beauty too: Speglingar is all glassy tinkle, a tune like the broken surface of a pond, full of the memory of calm. Skuggespel has an almost classical feel, the insistent strings flitting and flickering, while the minute-long Bestemor Bremen is sweetly pastoral. Til eit Astrup-bilete responds to the work of Norway’s pioneering landscape artist Nikolai Astrup: it comes as no surprise to learn that Apneseth is inspired by an artist for whom boldness, distinctiveness and vibrancy were hallmarks but whose works nonetheless conceal a darker power.
Nova is an album of colour and contrast, of human intimacy and wild natural grandeur. Nowhere is this more apparent than in the final two pieces: the dramatic Gravsong and the slow atonal build of Ettertid. Both are eerie but, at the same time, oddly open-hearted. There is no pretentiousness to Apneseth’s music. His experimental urge is fueled by natural musical curiosity rather than any desire to intellectualise or obfuscate, and as a result, his music has always been refreshing as well as highly proficient. On Nova, where everything is stripped back to the fiddle and its acoustic surroundings, we get the clearest picture yet of this proficiency.
Nova is out now on Hubro: Bandcamp | Roughtrade
