More Norwegian Good: Nils Økland and Sigbjørn Apeland

It’s fair to say that Nils Økland is not a name that will be familiar to many people. But I’ve written about him here before, and judging by the number of people who read that post he evidently has a substantial band of followers – and quite rightly so. The Norwegian composer, bandleader and violinist – who specialises in the Hardanger fiddle and, now and again, the viola d’amore – is undoubtedly an artist to treasure. His music – available on the ECM, Rune Grammofon and Hubro labels – is utterly accessible and pleasurable – and, just sometimes, surprisingly danceable – whether it’s performed solo, in duets, or in larger groups with such fine musicians as keyboards-player Sigbjørn Apeland, bassist Mats Eilertsen, percussionist Håkon Mørch Stene and reeds-player Rolf Erik Nystrøm. Whatever the format, and notwithstanding the variety, Økland’s albums are always immediately identifiable as his own and nobody else’s.

But what kind of music is it? Good question. There’s a lot of Scandinavian folk music in there, and tunes taken from or inspired by hymns. But there can also be very distinctive traces of jazz, rock, drone and trance music, classical, experimental and improv. Whatever the ingredients, the mix always produces something coherent and compelling. There’s often a poignant lyricism, particularly if the Hardanger fiddle is to the fore, and the range of colours created, especially in the albums by the larger ensembles, can be quite remarkable.

Økland’s most frequent collaborator over the last three decades or so has probably been the aforementioned Apeland, who has a particular penchant for the harmonium, and I cannot write here without mentioning, again, their first duo outing released back in 2011. Lysøen: Homage à Ole Bull, recorded partly in tribute to the nineteenth-century Norwegian violin virtuoso and composer referenced in the title, is an album I have returned to a great many times over the years, so I was extremely pleased to learn, a couple of months ago, that the pair had recorded another album together. The recently released Glimmer, according to Økland’s liner note, is largely centred on the kind of music he and Apeland heard while growing up in Western Norway, in a region sometimes called Haugalandet. For years the keyboardist has been collecting traditional tunes from local singers, and the duo based their improvisations on those melodies, though there is also original material written by Økland and/or Apeland, some of it short pieces composed for a documentary about the painter Lars Hertervig, another inspired by Fartein Valen, the first Norwegian composer to write atonal music.

So you shouldn’t expect to find the jazz or rock elements this time around; even more than Lysøen, this is an album of mostly slow, gentle, haunting melodies of an alluring (if inevitably, perhaps, deceptive) simplicity. That said, the combination of fiddle and harmonium is far from limited in terms of tonal and textural variety: there is an airy delicacy here, but also a granite-like solidity; radiant sunlight as well as brooding darkness, and many shades between. In other words, the music feels elemental, timeless; its virtues derive less from ornamentation than from a kind of pared-back purity, a focus on essentials.

If, for me, Glimmer isn’t quite up there with Lysøen (which remains, along with Frode Haltli’s likewise imaginative Passing Images, one of my very favourite engagements with traditional  music), it is nevertheless an album of rare honesty and beauty. Here are two tracks to sample: the opening track Skynd deg, skynd deg, and O du min Immanuel. This music reminds me of something my friend and former colleague Brian Case once wrote in praise of a pianist whose work I have long adored: ‘Radicalism doesn’t have to shout, and [Paul] Bley’s originality repays careful listening.’ The same can be said, I think, of Nils Økland.

Glimmer, by Nils Økland and Sigbjørn Apeland, is released by ECM. Photograph at top by Tore Salter, and portrait of Økland by Malene Kristopine Økland; courtesy of ECM.