Without Sinking

opis:
Reviews:
Bleep43 (UK):

Hildur Gu?nadóttir is a gifted Icelandic cellist who is best known for her collaborations with Pan Sonic and post rock group múm. Along with múm, Sigur Rós, Jóhann Jóhannsson and Skúli Sverrisson, Gu?nadóttir has helped breathe life into Iceland’s vibrant experimental music scene. “Without Sinking” —her second solo album and her first on the Touch label— is a wonderful addition, one that cements her status among this group of gifted musician-composers. In “Without Sinking”, she’s produced a deeply moving album that should reach a large audience—from orchestral music enthusiasts to fans of experimental electronica.

The album features Gu?nadóttir’s cello, which is layered, lightly processed, and overdubbed to create a rich and melancholy musical tapestry. Collaborations with Skúli Sverrisson, Jóhann Jóhannsson, and Gu?ni Franzson are integrated in an organic way, matching the cello’s somber tone and creating a sense of slow movement.

Gu?nadóttir aimed to create an album that contrasted lighter, spacious compositions with denser and heavier compositions. She sought, in her own words, “to create a sky and cloud-like feeling” throughout the album. Lighter compositions foreground individual notes that float, Gu?nadóttir states, “like single clouds in a clear sky.” These are contrasted by denser compositions that seek to evince a “more thundercloud-like” feeling. There is a pensive, somber, and almost wintry touch to most of the compositions. So even though she describes her aim as creating a sky and cloud-like feeling, perhaps it is more apt to state that her album conjures images of frigid and inaccessible—but beautiful—arctic landscapes.

“Without Sinking”, as such, was never intended to feature memorable musical phrases. There are few identifiable “hooks.” In fact, only a few tracks have clear melodic lines—“Erupting Light,” “Opaque,” “Ascent,” and “Into Warmer Air.” Some might find this disconcerting, as compositions lacking strong melodic progressions seem better fit for cinematic scores than for a standalone album. But this only adds to the album’s aesthetic charm. By creating compositions that emphasize space and depth, Gu?nadóttir draws the listener into Without Sinking’s emotional musical landscape.

She hooked me immediately. The album’s first track, “Elevation,” features a languid cello build over a soft, pulsing background. While slow, “Elevation” is both graceful and beautiful in its restraint. The following two tracks, “Overcast” and “Erupting Light,” continue this sense of unhurried build. With “Ascent,” perhaps my favourite track, Gu?nadóttir explores both the cello’s lower and higher registers to dramatic effect. In its higher register, the cello moans a melancholic but gorgeous tone, reminding me why I see the cello as the king of string instruments. Other excellent tracks include “Opaque” and “Into Warmer Air.” In both of these tracks, Gu?nadóttir quickens the pace and shapes a percussive background, over which the cries of her cello seem to soar.

Without Sinking is a fantastic album. It is deeply engaging, and is cohesive in its musical narrative. Run, don’t walk, to your nearest store to pick it up. [Jeremy Yellen]

self-titled (USA):

We get a lot of crap CDs at the self-titled offices. But once in a while, a pleasant surprise slips into our promo stack. Here’s a recent delivery that knocked the S/T staff on its collective ass.

The Vibe: Incredibly moving cello pieces from a Storsveit Nix Noltes member who’s worked with such fellow sound sculptors as Throbbing Gristle, Pan Sonic, Ben Frost and múm.
RIYL: Stirring strings, Stephen O’Malley’s approval, long walks on the beach…in the middle of winter

The Silent Ballet (USA):

8/10

As aficionados of this site know, I’m a huge Múm fan, and as such, I like to keep track of what all the members and former members are recording. This does not mean, however, that I like artists just because they are associated with Múm.Hildur Gudnadóttir (who has also recorded with Pan Sonic and Throbbing Gristle) has proved maddening in recent years, an artist who has, in my opinion, continually failed to come into her own. Her debut album, Mount A (recorded as Lost in Hildurness) was experimental, loosely formed, shape-shifting, and dissonant. She played a number of instruments on Mount A, but her primary instrument – the cello – was too frequently overshadowed by secondary sound sources. This failure was compounded on her collaboration with B.J. Nilsen and Stillupsteypa: here, the cello was mulched and processed to the point of unrecognizability.

Without Sinking is different. This time, the formula is right, the proportions perfect, the guests well-integrated. The most famous of these is Jóhann Jóhannsson, who plays organ and processor on three tracks. Other tracks feature bass, clarinet and bass clarinet, instruments that match well with the cello’s lower registers.Without Sinking is, in fact, an exercise in lowness, and as such is already different from most albums in the field of modern composition. Without airy counterparts such as flute, trumpet or violin, the listening experience becomes one of compression, of inevitability, of slow descent. One feels the hand of fate on the proceedings – neither cruel nor arbitrary, but steady and scripted, even apologetic.

This is not to say that Without Sinking is depressing or oppressive. On the mood scale, it still ranks above dirge, drone and black metal, but is is more fog and fugue than cloud and carousel. The greyness of the cover – the silt, the sea – and the obscured sun of the interior art are apt metaphors for the sounds found within. Even the track titles seem carefully chosen: “Overcast”, “Opaque”, “Aether". And yet, moments of tentative revelation are scattered about like the germs of hope, the beginnings of an idea, the flutterings of understanding. These moments tend to arrive in the foam of identifiable melodies, bearing such titles as “Into Warmer Air” and “Erupting Light”.

Perhaps Gudnadóttir is herself struggling with the question, “How do I live without sinking?” It is a legitimate question to ask, especially in her native Iceland, which in the course of the last twelve months has gone from being the happiest, healthiest and seemingly most stable nation on earth to bankruptcy, rioting and rampant unemployment. But it is also a valid question for those in any circumstance who are just barely hanging on: people for whom airy melodies and false cheer might seem unobservant and unfeeling. Such people might yearn for understanding, for empathy, for someone to say, “Yes, I know it might not get better. But I’m not ready to give in to they greyness, even in the middle of the ocean with no boat or buoy in sight.” Gudnadóttir gets it – that words are ultimately ineffective, and crumble in the face of feelings – that some feelings can only be conjured by music – and that music sometimes speaks louder than words.

In this sense, one might consider Gudnadóttir the anti-Múm, until one realizes that both are approaching the same dock from different angles. Múm uses unusual juxtapositions, non-sensical phrases and seeming exuberance to mock a world that makes no sense, while Gudnadóttir seeks to identify the world’s hidden underpinnings, the ley lines, the patterns of the gods. Múm laughs in order to keep from crying, and Gudnadóttir cries in order to stay sane. Without answers, it’s hard to have faith, but on Without Sinking, she declares that she still has faith in the questions. [Richard Allen]

Aquarius Exclusives (USA):

Hildur Gudnadottir has such a way with the cello, able to create such utterly moving music that is filled with nuance and texture but that is also so deeply emotional. Hailing from Iceland, Gudnadottir's resume includes collaborations and partnerships with the likes of Pan Sonic, Mum, Sigur Ros, Angel, BJ Nilsen, etc. It's so nice to get to hear her take center stage, carefully crafting a sound that is about as moody and beautiful as music really gets. Perfect for those eternal gray days we are faced with so often in San Francisco, this is a record we put on when we just want to get lost in the fog and haze. There is very nice and subtle processing throughout the album as well, and here and there Gudnadottir tries her hand at the zither with stunning results. Johann Johansson adds organ on a few tracks as well, and fans of HIS best work as well as music by folks like Sylvain Chauveau, Philip Glass, Michael Cashmore, Joan Jeanrenaud and Colleen should for sure check this out. Truly elegant and intensely resonant. And thus highly recommended!

tinymixtapes (USA):

One glimpse into Hildur Gudnadóttir’s discography is enough to reveal the breadth and versatility of the Icelandic cellist and composer’s musicianship. Included among her more high-profile works are collaborations with Angel and Pan Sonic, as well as guest appearances with fellow Icelanders múm and Jóhann Jóhannsson. In addition, she has supported Animal Collective on tour as a member of Stórsveit Nix Noltes, has composed music for theater, film, and dance, and has co-written a choir score with Throbbing Gristle for the Derek Jarmen film In the Shadow of the Sun. While she has consistently added a richness and emotional depth to these collaborative works, Gudnadóttir has only recently begun to branch out as a solo artist. Adopting the moniker Lost in Hildurness, she released her debut album, Mount A, back in 2007. It’s a highly reflective and exploratory work that beautifully showcases Gudnadóttir’s understanding and love for the cello’s expressive capabilities. On Without Sinking, her first release with Touch, Gudnadóttir drops her pseudonym and demonstrates an emerging confidence in her individual sound.

In terms of methodology and mood, Without Sinking essentially picks up where Mount A left off. Once again, the pieces are dominated by the layered and overlapping sounds of Gudnadóttir’s cello, as they combine to create a generally austere and melancholic atmosphere. However, when compared to the majority of Mount A, there are moments throughout Without Sinking when Gudnadóttir opts for a less dense and amorphous approach. Tracks such as “Erupting Light” and “Into Warmer Air,” for example, possess an uncharacteristic forward momentum with clear melodic lines at the forefront. Despite these more traditional, song-based moments, Without Sinking still finds Gudnadóttir utilizing her strengths as she weaves dense and encompassing textures using little more than the natural sound of her instrument.

Also in contrast to Mount A — which was under her sole control until the mixing process — Gudnadóttir has decided to invite guest musicians into the creative process this time around. Contributing bass, organ, and clarinet respectively, Skúli Sverrisson, Jóhann Jóhannsson, and Hildur’s father Gudni Franzson were given the freedom to add their parts once Without Sinking’s tracks were written and composed. For the most part, these contributions are relatively subtle, serving only to heighten the impact of Gudnadóttir’s cello. The one exception is Franzson’s appearance on “Aether,” which is certainly one of the album’s highlights. On this track, the interaction between Gudnadóttir’s zither and Franzson’s delicate clarinet melodies becomes the focal point, as the cello gently rises and falls in the background, adding dizzying texture and color. Such moments reveal the delightful possibilities that may arise if Gudnadóttir were to continue to embrace her collaborative spirit within the framework of her solo material.

Overall, Without Sinking’s most impressive quality remains Gudnadóttir’s continued use of classical methods and instrumentation to emphasize the experimental notion of ‘sound’ over ‘song.’ While contemporary musicians seeking a similar end result may rely on modern digital effects and processing, Gudnadóttir leaves her instrument relatively untouched, allowing it to interact with the natural acoustics of the recording space. It is through this general technique that she achieves her goal of finding a connection between the experimental and classical world, and, in turn, produces a highly expressive and absorbing album in the process. [Stephen Bezan]

fluid (UK):

‘Without Sinking’ gets this weeks fav album on Fluid and deservedly so… Taking stringed instrument experimentation to a new level, Hildur produces what has to be one of the most beautiful albums so far for 2009.

Popmatters (USA):

Sometimes it seems that the output from Scandinavian composers-cum-ambient musicians is so vast that it’s hard to find an entry point into the work. Jóhann Johannsson, Valgeir Sigurosson, mum, Sigur Ros, and amiina, to name a few, have left definitive stamps on the ambient Icelandic music that is nearly its own genre by now. On Without Sinking, Hildur Gudnadóttir sheds her supporting role and comes to the forefront, armed with a vision as large as her cello.

Fans of the aforementioned musicians will certainly enjoy Without Sinking, but the album is also a fine offering for those who enjoy Kaija Saariaho or other musicians whose work deals with redefining and recontextualizing the cello. Here, the stringed instrument takes on the lead that is often filled by synthesizers or other electronics, and the acoustic instrumentation never sounds a bit out of place.

Without Sinking is a somber album, but it’s not necessarily sad or depressing. At least, not always. Rather, it conjures an endless expanse where possibilities gradually open up and fantasy worlds begin. The opening track, “Elevation”, begins building such a world with sustained cello notes held over quieter, quicker ones. This song has a gentle pulse throughout, a sense of breath forming its spine and lending a graceful sense of urgency. By the song’s end, the listener is fully in Gudnadóttir’s territory, and she doesn’t offer many opportunities for escape. Unlike many post-rock songs where a quickening tempo indicates a grand takeoff, “Overcast” displays Gudnadóttir’s talent for stair-stepping up the drama while leaving the listener firmly planted on the ground. “Erupting Light” is the first song where listeners begin to realize just how good Gudnadóttir is. Her cello is deft and flashy, but it is still part of the same somber, monochromatic landscape. “Circular” escalates the drama with the cello holding notes for a long time, resulting in hypoxic suspense as other instruments act in the background, but are unable to be deciphered over the cello’s hum.

After “Circular”, a heavy feeling of catharsis and fatigue lingers, only partially soothed by the opening notes of “Ascent”, which dips into lower notes than previously heard on the album. The lower tones form a bedrock for the cello’s cracking ice, and the listener is tasked with holding on to both sounds. Then one or the other falls away starkly but soon returns. Like many of the songs on Without Sinking, “Ascent” feels longer than it is, not because it is dull and repetitious, but because the space between notes is so leisurely that it doesn’t seem possible for a whole song to be accomplished in four or five minutes. Yet, somehow, it is, though “Opaque” speeds up the pace a bit. It maintains the dueling cello phrases Gudnadóttir does so well, but the accelerated speed helps them become more terrestrial than subterranean—it’s easy to see “Opaque” as twisted tree limbs embracing each other fiercely.

There is a wintry silence preceding the harpsichord twinkle that launches “Aether”, the closest thing to a lullaby this album features. With a music box-like sound and strategic silence, “Aether” is a welcome comfort despite the comfort being grim. Whereas the rest of the album spells certain death, “Aether” is the promise that it will be painless. This is enough to pass for optimism on Without Sinking.

“Whiten” returns to the slow drama and low tones of earlier songs on the album, the bass notes ringing out like foghorns while the treble clef sounds the same relentless interval before it too elongates and sprawls over the bass. “Into Warmer Air” satisfies more standard expectations of classical cello, though four minutes in, producer Valgeir Sigurosson makes his touch audible with his trademark fuzz of gentle chaos. “Unveiled” spends more time in the bass clef than any other songs on the album, and it is pleasant to hear the higher pitches counterpoint the lower ones for once. As the song grows, all its lines expand and come together and then fade into a single cello. And then the album is over. There is never any musical showdown announcing the climax, and the album is better for that—Gudnadóttir’s refusal to conform to the Freytag Pyramid is a nice change that actually lends the album a greater musical resonance than many which shatter in prolonged musical fight scenes where instruments clash and triumph for minutes on end.

Gudnadóttir is to be commended for very many aspects of this, her second solo album and first for Touch. She sets herself apart from her contemporaries by using slowness to create various intensities that generally only happen with faster music. Further, the album is remarkably cohesive and feels like a narrative despite having no lyrics.

Foxydigitalis (US):

Hildur Ingveldardóttir Gudnadóttir is a classically trained Icelandic cellist/composer who is a key member in the neu-Icelandic music scene, centered around Kitchen Motors, a Reykjavík-based think tank, record label and art collective. While Sigur Ros and Bjork get all the press, Gudnadóttir has quietly amassed an impressive discography via collaborations with múm, Pan Sonic, and Angel. This is her sophomore solo effort, following her debut, “Mount A” (12 Tónar, 2006) released as Lost In Hildurness.

These ten multi-layered, contemplative, cello-based ruminations create haunting, evocative soundscapes that impart a warmth and soothing glow to images of Iceland’s sparse, frozen landscapes. Tracks like “Overcast” paint mental pictures of grey, rainy days, while the weeping, mournful, “Circular” features her occasional zither flourishes. “Ascent,” as it title suggests, evokes an almost religious aura.

The mood is elevated somewhat by the forceful, stalking “Opaque,” while “Aether” cranks up the sedatives with a lovely and soothing zither and clarinet duet. An album of infinite beauty and warmth, “Without Sinking” is the perfect title for this collection, as it captures that in-between state of treading water, creating a sense of both anticipation and relief that help is on the way. 8/10 [Jeff Penczak]

The Wire (UK):