A Closer Listen
Räkna evighet som intet is an intense exploration of grieving from Swedish composer Erik Enocksson, traveling through a range of moods as it unfolds. The title, along with the embedded poetry by Lotta Lotass, refers to the “impermanence of life,” and while the music is mournful, it is also life-affirming. The two-part composition – one on each side of clear or white vinyl – expresses empathy by refusing to look away. Enocksson’s simple message: “You are not alone.”
Lotass’ words, spoken by twin narrators, launch the narrative, after which a silence falls, like a respectful pause following a eulogy. The string ensemble enters slowly but firmly, building strength as it increases in viscosity and volume. It’s easy to sink into this early section, which possesses a requisite tinge of sadness; yet by the middle of Side A, the music has continued to push beyond what is polite, toppling into drone and finally noise, reflecting the confusion and anger that can swirl about in a time of loss, like hornets in the mind. This is private mourning made public, a confession.
One might stay here in this mindset, railing against loss and the injustices of fate. Many people choose to do so, ignoring the impact on their mood and soul. Yet after acknowledging bitterness, Enocksson refuses to dwell in it. The vocal ensemble sneaks in, careful not to disturb, breaking through in the fifteenth minute with a passage so pristine it suggests divine intervention or light through stained glass. One barely notices when the instruments disappear; one only hopes the bitterness has as well.
Side B begins with a snarl of energy, an eruption of feedback. The carousel of emotions continues to turn, the chords still audible beneath the blast. In this, Enocksson captures a facet of mourning that many people miss: mourning is never a straight line. One is never “better” every consecutive day. Mourning is a process, with unsteady peaks and precipitous falls, eventually stabilizing, or at least unfolding in less intense cycles. Midway through Side B a crackling fire symbolizes the end of one phase and the beginning of the next, a farewell and a reassessment. Again the choir begins to sing, a reminder that one needs encouragement not once, but in a consistent fashion, because life will continue to pummel us with debris. The album ends in crackle and static, the embers dying, the mourners leaving, the burnt wood nourishing the soil. (Richard Allen)
Tue Aug 22 00:01:23 GMT 2023