Högni - Music for Katla

A Closer Listen

The Icelandic miniseries Katla is one of the most intriguing shows ever to appear on Netflix: visually stunning, deeply philosophical, uniquely unsettling.  While similar in tone to Les Revenants (scored by Mogwai), the series diverges from the thriller format by asking penetrating questions.  How would you feel if a younger version of a loved one returned, knowing nothing of the wreckage you had caused their older self?  What if the returnee were a younger version of you, innocent, unrivaled by time, and fit?  Would you be lustful, envious, even murderous; and if so, who would you undo?  By leaving questions unanswered, the series lingers in one’s mind years after its first airing.  The only thing missing, finally resolved this month, is the availability of Högni‘s haunting score.

Until now, we had only a single, “Sensus Terrae (Voice of Katla)” featuring footballer, actress and singer extraordinaire GDRN, last heard here as a guest on Eydís Evensen‘s Bylur.  This incredible track incorporates eight active, rumbling “voices” of the volcano prominent in Katla, integrated with GDRN and the choral voices of the Cantoque Ensemble.  So why isn’t it on the album?  The answer is simple; it was recorded as a promotional piece just prior to the premiere.  Tonally, its closest relative on Music for Katla is “Boðorð,” another ethereal, otherworldly choral piece.

As incredible as the show may be, one can argue that it would not have made such an impact sans Högni’s atmospheric score.  This score also works smoothly as a standalone album, starting with the staccato overture.  Daniel Bjarason conducts The Iceland Symphony Orchestra with the same manner of discipline heard on the recent Atmospherics Vol. 1.  Adding to the appeal is a special appearance from Hatis Noit on “Anda Þinn Guð,” an unclassifiable artist on an original project.  The mystery deepens on the sorrowful “Resurgentis,” while major chords swell and recede.

As the strings of “Elí” soar to the stars, one is led to the fantasy of returning to one’s youth; if not, of recapturing one’s youth, a theme enacted to heartrending effect in the plot. Simply put, we cannot step into the same river twice, even if the river is us.  “Andardráttur Myrkrahöfðingjans (Breath of the Dark Lord)” acknowledges this impossibility.  The music is tinged with an aura of inevitability: given the chance, we will make the same mistakes twice.  And while the powerful ‘Gratandi Jeg thig Beiði (ft. Eron Thor Jónsson),’ roughly translated, “I’m waiting, crying,” seems like an elegy, is there any space for elegies if no one really dies and no one – even an iteration – ever really leaves?  The closing piece, featuring Hallveig Rúnarsdottir, is titled “Elegy,” but the show resists closure, and no second season has been announced.

If the plot of Katla makes the viewer think, Högni’s score makes the listener feel.  The album is affecting, even without the visuals.  Hallveig Rúnarsdottir’s operatic voice is folded into the strings, just as each moment is folded into the flow of time.  We may remember and we may dream, each a momentary forestalling.  The land may remember our ghosts, and in this case, regurgitate them.  But in the end, every tale, every song, every hope will fade gently into the sea.  (Richard Allen)  

Available here