Biosphere biography
"I work slowly", Geir Jenssen said in 1994, when asked about the
three-year gap between his first two releases under the name Biosphere. Visions
of six-month-long nights in Northern Norway amongst (whatever the thermal equivalent
of visions may be) of hibernating temperatures would seem to explain this quasi-confession.
As if taking one's time would be considered dangerously old-fashioned, as if
long processes of creation were doomed to turn into artistic suicide. Quite
the opposite.
First clue: the name.
In 1990, having learned of the Biosphere 2 Space Station Project, a sealed,
gigantic glass dome in the Arizona Desert, then in its early stages, Geir decides
to adopt it as his new alias. The sound. The meaning. A sound that describes
what the word means. The Biosphere 2 Research Project was meant to test the
possibilities of building self-sufficient space colonies, and hosted entire
families living in a completely
detached environment for years. Geir Jenssen's Biosphere has likewise been
steadily creating a self-contained aural universe. Once inside, we will experience
the
outside world through the
spherical window. As if watching a movie where, despite the monumental scale,
we still manage to feel we belong in the script.
Second clue: the distance.
Geir Jenssen has decided to base himself permanently in his birthplace of Tromso,
Norway, 400 miles north of the Arctic circle, having briefly tried out Brussels
and Oslo before retreating back in total disinterest from the frenzy of too
many cultural offers. What exactly goes on in Tromso? And why, then, does Biosphere
resonate so strongly in your walkman at rush hour in Times Square, New York
City? Because it surgically
extracts time out of urgency, because it opens up huge spaces right at the
dead centre of your urban claustrophobia. The viewpoint of the astronaut who
contemplates Planet Earth from outer space and reflects on the billions of
little lives down there. Someone called it 'Arctic Sound'.
Maybe.
Third clue: the distance.
Geir's musical history has always been one of progressive self-distillation.
Of maximising one's chosen few resources. Bel Canto, Geir's band in the late
eighties, had signed up with Crammed Discs in Brussels and, after two albums,
looked poised for crossover marketability. This is precisely when Geir decides
to leave Bel Canto and start working on his own. The reasons? A growing need
to move on. A growing need for growth. Two years, four singles and one album
followed under the alias Bleep. First symptoms of Geir's Ambient Techno that,
by 1995, had come full circle and
become truly mainstream. History revisited: the use of "Novelty Waves" (a
track from Patashnik, his second album as Biosphere) on a Levi's advertisement
proved to be the last techno straw for Geir. Rather than turning achievement
into formula, we see him dropping whatever was left of the hard beats, moving
once again into unnamed, undiscovered territories.
One could still call them Ambient Territories if not for their deeply emotional
undercurrent. Someone said 'Less is more'...
Precisely.
Fourth clue: interchange.
Geir says that music that excites him never fails to trigger visions in
his mind. And I personally dare you to find music which is more visual.
Soundtracks,
yes, Biosphere has released the score for Insomnia in 1997 and been elsewhere
extensively commissioned. Background music.... not quite. This is synaesthetic
music. Sound sculpture, music as photographic collage. Echoes as warning
signs. Liquid beats, samples
as snapshots, faraway speeches of open-ended meaning. No, not the hungover
Balearic beaches. No, not even the deeply catatonic Winter nights of Norway.
Something deeper, warmer, so much more human,
so much more
visceral. Contemplation. Remember that word? Try it.
Fifth clue: Cirque.
In the year 2000 of just as many fictions and personal projections, Biosphere
arrives at Cirque. For those of you still expecting a "Novelty Waves
2" of
some sort, a return to the harder sound of past times, well... it just
keeps getting further and further away from Techno and the mutation is
finally beyond
recognition. For those of you expecting Substrata 2... there is a sense
here of resolution that Substrata never presented us with, despite it being
so impossibly
close to perfection. And just in case you're thinking of the aforementioned,
self-reclaimed Arctic Sound, and wondering if it will, sooner or later,
bridge into the Norwegian ECM contingent of Garbarek or Rypdal, of icy
soundscapes
and contemporary classicism, think again. The 'classical' in Biosphere
will be conquered over time, as evidence, never as a pre-requisite. At
times reminiscent of Can's finest moment, Future Days, in its subdued
precision and unsettling tension of comfort/discomfort, Cirque may in addition
recall
Jon Hassell's Fourth World methods, in how it digests and redigests the
sounds while retaining their individual characters intact. Carefully crafted
throughout the last three years, inbetween scattered commissions and collaborations,
Cirque is what Geir describes as his playground,
the
territory where he has dictated his own rules and created his own visions
without any
form of outside pressure or compromise. At no point has this translated
into self-indulgence, one must say, and the sources of inspiration for
Cirque
did remain fertile and focused all the way through. Some of these were
deeply personal,
but the main one seems to have been Jon Krakauer's book Into The Wild,
a complex and fascinating insight into the short life and long journeys
of
Chris McCandless
who, after years on a quest for self-discovery and enlightenment through
solitary travels in the most remote regions of North America, went on a
final journey
into the Alaskan wilderness where his body was much later found alongside
an SOS note. The sense of solitude, of idealist wonderment, the constant
feel
of unease and imminent danger permeate both of these works, so often hand
in hand. Yet this is in no way to suggest that Cirque will only reveal
itself when placed alongside Krakauer's book. From it you must construct
your own
narratives, your own vision, as Geir has repeatedly suggested. Biosphere
has always made you pay attention. Cirque demands you to be active in your
listening.
Use it as a seed.
Do it.
Heitor Alvelos, March 2000
Selected Solo Discography:
Shenzhou [Touch # TO:55, 2002]
Substrata 2 [Touch # TO:50, 2001]
Cirque [Touch # TO:46, 2000]
Insomnia [Indigo, 1997]
Substrata [All Saints, 1997]
Patashnik [R&S, 1994]
Microgravity [R&S, 1991]
Selected Compilation Tracks:
Touch Sampler 3 - Knives in Hens [Touch # T_ZERO_3]
Absolute Zero - Superfluid [Charrm # Charrm28]
