CD in digipak
Photography & Design: Jon Wozencroft
Remastered by Denis Blackham
Track Listing
1. Light
2. Floods
3. Casting
4. Shadowed
5. Self
6. Growth
7. In Gray
8. My
9. Reflection
10. Earbraces
11. You
This album was originally released by 12 Tónar in 2006 under the moniker 'Lost in Hildurness'. The first solo recording from Hildur Guðnadóttir (who is a member of the Nix Noltes band and has performed regularly with múm and Pan Sonic). In her dreamy soundworld she plays the cello, gamba, zither, khuur and the gamelan so this cd sounds like nothing else. This is exciting, tranquil, and melancholic stuff and at times it makes you think of a lost place and times gone by - and the music has the power to take you there. Recording sessions took place both in New York and in a house in Hólar, Iceland, specifically chosen for its good cello acoustics. It is strictly a solo album, Hildur has attempted to "involve other people as little as I could." Like the cover art, it is personal and intimate.
It has been called "the perfect soundtrack to get lost in a forest at night", but this version, remastered by Denis Blackham, sounds fresher and better than ever.
Her latest solo album, the widely reviewed and highly acclaimed Without Sinking (Touch # TO:70, 2009) is still available from Touch.
Reviews:
Tokafi (Germany):
A gloomy medieval smack: Tantric hammer blows of time.
Influences can constitute a perfectly natural part of an artist's maturation process. But they can also stifle creative development. For years, Hildur Gudnadóttir would oscillate between the classical sphere and rock music, between her calling as a cellist and an interest in computer technology. It was only after she broke away from the dictates of mandatory lessons and turned towards studying composition and new media in Reykjavik and Berlin that she truly found her own vocabulary. Since then, she has somehow managed, on the one hand, to fulfill and even exceed expectations and, on the other, to utterly confound them: Gudnadóttir's duets with German prepared-piano-magician Hauschka seemed to give in to the neoclassical temptation, while wilful collaborations with Throbbing Gristle and electro-deconstructionists Pan Sonic brutally smashed it apart. Her strong affinity for the archaic qualities of music appeared to cater to widespread cliches about Icelandic music and yet a plethora of details revealed her to be a musician with a truly international scope. Today, her own name, rather than her affiliation with a clear-cut genre or scene, has turned into her real asset, representing a personal approach between tradition and the present, the concert hall and art spaces, meditative states and energetic improvisations.
This idiosyncratic path notwithstanding, aforementioned debut album, now re-released in a remastered version through Touch four years after its initial publication on local label 12 Tónar, was never completely free from external references. By making use of instruments like the viola da gamba (a precursor to the modern violin, whose popularity started to wane in the 18th century), zither and moran khuur (a mongolian horse-headed fiddle), Mount A's sound had a gloomy medieval smack to it, while the inclusion of vibraphone and gamelan elements simultaneously added a cosmopolitan touch of world music to the equation. Holding these contrasting poles together was Gudnadóttir's cello which, occasionally seamlessly blending with her own singing, represented the voice of humanity amidst a timbrally sparse sonic continuum that placed the listener inside the massive, fortified walls of a ghost-plagued castle in an abandoned Viking colony. Time was suspended, bent backwards and looped itself into acoustic Moebius strips in her imagination, speaking in runic tongues, expressing itself in tantric hammer blows and praising the technological advances of multitracking all at once.
Even more astounding, however, was how completely naturally Gudnadóttir managed to reunite minimal music's two closely-aligned yet nonetheless counterpuntual tendencies towards meditative stasis and vivid pulsation. Although these pieces were continually propelled by mantrically repeated cello-lines, their shamanic ostinatos seemed to be running against an invisible wall of tightly compressed harmonies and infinitely sustained tones, never advancing beyond their original point of departure. While one part of her music was always moving, the other never even budged, creating tense soundscapes caught in a state of perpetual suspense through their underlying antagonisms. The impression was not quite unlike the kind of nervous equilibrium upheld by the works of Hungarian composer Györgi Legti, from whose dense harmonic swarms the occasional melodic theme or rhythmic pattern would rise for a few seconds like a solar protuberance only to drop back into the gravitational field of a monolithic mass again. Consciously left in its organic unquantised state and imbued with a sense of breath and irregularity, these sequences were turning into inner dervish dances, into occult rituals of the mind.
Between these discrete and more often than not subcutaneously transmitted allusions, however, one could already hear the distant din of the drills and hammers Gudnadóttir was handling to construct her very own reality out of these recognisable building blocks. When, as on “Self", microtonally refined zither-patterns were dissolving into ethereal drones; rich, cinematic string swells were poised against visionary film-noir-jazz-moods (“In Gray"); or futuristic bell-sonorities and chiming bleeps created a scintillating, threedimensionally rotating caleidoscope (“Earbraces"), Mount A far surpassed the post of clever juxtaposition. Placed side by side, the seeming immobility of these pieces, mostly condensed to their three- or four-minute-essence, turned into their strongest character trait. Gudnadóttir was virtually sculpting sonic objects from naked stone, leaving their rough and grainy surface intact. The act of listening was one of feeling their texture, appreciating the rawness of their outlines and discovering secretly engraved nuances. It was the exact opposite of an ambient-artist's favourite objective, immersion: A concentrated, deeply penetrating analytical gaze which scanned her inventions and extracted powerful emotional resonance in return.
Over the course of her next releases, Gudnadóttir would gradually refine these ideas, increasingly preferring a combination of spontaneity and meticulous organisation over the expressionist outbursts of her early years. With hindsight, however, it has remained intriguing to note that even at her most impulsive and unfiltered, she never allowed her inspirations to stifle her creativity, tightly integrating them into an intriguing cobweb of allusions. [Tobias Fischer]
VITAL (Netherlands):
The album 'Mount A' by Hildur Gudnadottir was previously released on 12Tonar under the name of Lost In Hildurness. That was in 2006. Since then Gudnadottir has made name for herself by playing cello with Nix Noltes band and alongside with Mum, Pan Sonic, Angel, Stillusteypa and BJ NIlsen. Her previous album, 'Without Sinking' (see Vital Weekly 672) was released by Touch, who now take the opportunity to re-release her 2006 album, using a new master, courtesy of Denis Blackham. While the cello is the main instrument here, she also uses gamba, zither, khuur and the gamelan. No doubt with the aid of electronics that put things into a loop, which can be used as a basis for the composition - or of course a multitude of such loops. Her previous album was received with some consideration, but this album is pretty good. Its more joyous, free and perhaps also naive. Atmospheric, of course (how can it not be when there is a cello involved), spacious and intimate. But all played with a sense of naivety, which greatly serves the music. Modern classical with a smile, even when all of these pieces seem highly personal. Its hard to explain, but I think Gudnadottir likes to play with these classical notions and pull a joke, but in a serious way. I don't think this makes much sense, right? Find out for yourself. I thought this was a most pleasing album. [FdW]
Cutting Edge (Belgium):
De IJslanders zijn waarschijnlijk het raarste volkje dat onze aardkloot bewoont. Ze zijn maar met een half miljoen, maar wat een recente geschiedenis! De weelde die ze het laatste decennium binnenhaalden, bleek gebouwd op pure speculatie. Toen dat aan de licht kwam, werd het land in een ongeziene financiële crisis ondergedompeld. Ze hebben de actiefste vulkanen van de planeet. Daarnaast beoefent de meerderheid van de IJslanders een of andere kunstvorm. Het percentage muzikanten ligt onwaarschijnlijk hoog. De uitstroom van muzikanten en bandjes naar de rest van Europa is even groot. Om de drie maanden worden we wel met een nieuwe naam om de oren geslagen.
Ondanks de economische crisis blijft de IJslandse artistieke hausse maar voortduren. De nieuwe trend is bovendien niet meer zozeer elektronisch maar neoklassiek. Hildur Ingveldardóttir Guðnadóttir of Gudnadóttir is een celliste die onder meer meewerkte met het Finse elektronicaduo Pan Sonic en met het Ijslandse collectief múm. In 2009 bracht ze het fel geprezen soloalbum ‘Without Sinking’ uit. De erkenning noopte Touch om haar eersteling opnieuw uit te brengen. ‘Mount A’ werd in 2006 uitgebracht onder het pseudoniem Lost In Hildurness op het IJslandse 12 Tónar, maar kreeg nu een oppoetsbeurt en wordt in een door Denis Blackman geremasterde versie opnieuw uitgebracht.
Een album met alleen maar met de zwaarmoedige klanken van een cello? Je kunt je daar vragen bij stellen, maar Guðnadóttir brengt het er vrij goed van af. De opnames vonden voornamelijk plaats in het afgelegen IJslandse gehucht Hólar, maar ook in New York. Dat ‘Mount A’ een duister en weemoedig album is, staat buiten kijf. ‘Light’ drijft op één enkele melancholische lang aangehouden noot en is allesbehalve licht. In ‘Floods’ en ‘Casting’ duiken embryonale melodieën op. Het licht- en schaduwspel gaat door op ‘Shadowed’ en ‘Growth’.
Gaandeweg breidt Hildur haar instrumentenpalet uit met de exotische en lichtere klanken van gamba, zither, khuur en gamelan. Dat geeft een meerwaarde aan het album. ‘Earbraces’ klinkt onaards mooi met zijn bel- en gongachtige gamelanklanken. Het tien minuten durende ‘You’ is het kroonstuk van het album. Je zou zweren dat hier een orkest aan het werk is, maar Hildur beroert zelf alle instrumenten. ‘Mount A’ is een album als een nachtelijk woud om langzaam en tergend traag in te verdwalen en een welkome aanvulling bij het veel toegankelijkere ‘Without Sinking’. 'Mount A' is een wondermooi werkstuk met een heel lange houdbaarheidsdatum. [Peter Wullen]
Ikonen (Germany):
2006 veröffentlichte die Multiinstrumentalistin Hildur Gudnadottir (mùm, Pan Sonic, The Nix Noltes Band) ein bemerkenswertes Soloalbum: "Lost in Hildurness" sollte persönlich und intim sein, alle Instrumente wurden von ihr selbst gespielt: Cello, Viola, Piano, Vibraphon und Gamelan.
2010 remasterte der legendäre Denis Blackham das Album, und nun erscheint es unter dem neuen Titel "Mount A" noch einmal, um eine neue Zuhörerschaft zu überzeugen. Für viele wird "Mount A" also wie ein neues Album klingen, dass es in sich hat. Getragen von elegischen Streichermelodien entwickelt es einen melancholischen Sog, der allenfalls mit Hilmar Örn Hilmarssons "Children of Nature" vergleichbar ist. Schwermütig, nostalgisch, unheimlich an einigen Stellen gar. Und immer introspektiv.
Wer die ätherische Schönheit von Arvo Pärt und die nordische Melancholie schätzt, wird "Mount A" ins Herz schließen. "Mount A" - ein filigranes Werk von erhabener Schönheit. Ein Soundtrack zum einsamen Tag am herbstlichen Strand... [Marcus Stiglegger]
Kindamuzik (Germany):
Hildur Gudnadóttir is voornamelijk bekend van haar samenwerkingen met Múm, Pansonic en recent Jóhann Jóhannsson maar haar solo-uitingen zijn mogelijk nog indrukwekkender. Op haar eentje maakt Hildur Gudnadóttir met behulp van onder meer cello, vibrafoon, piano en viool meeslepende geluidstapijten die het midden houden tussen beklijvende melancholie en beeldschone melodieën.
De opnames van Mount A dateren al van 2006 en werden eerder als Lost in Hildurness op het kleinere IJslandse 12 Tónar uitgebracht, maar zijn sinds enige tijd niet meer beschikbaar. Deze hermasterde heruitgave is gerechtvaardigd, want het oudere werk van Gudnadóttir klinkt ijler en dromeriger dan het vorig jaar uitgebrachtte Without Sinking.
Dat Mount A meer ingetogen klinkt, heeft wellicht te maken heeft met het feit dat Gudnadóttir zich niet door gasten liet bijstaan. Het is net deze minimale ingetogenheid die van Mount A een uiterst persoonlijke plaat maakt die perfect op zichzelf staat en Gudnadóttir als unieke soloartiest weerom met stip op de kaart zet. [Hans van der Linden]
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