Benedicte Maurseth – Mirra

Hubro

Benedicte Maurseth - MirraHardanger fiddle player Benedicte Maurseth returns to her beloved Hardangervidda plateau for the follow up to 2022’s Hárr.

This time we are accompanying the reindeer flocks on their annual migration, with the found sounds of the wild environment drifting alongside the subtle additions of regular foils Håkon Stene and Mats Eilertsen, along with keyboard player Morten Qvenild. Across eight sprawling, amorphous pieces, we are taken on an adventure the likes of which those of us in the clement, more southern parts of Europe will be unfamiliar.

The sounds of the animals and the environmental ambience of the place infuse the opening track and the curls of fiddle appear like breath from the reindeer’s mouths as the light touch of snow across the landscape obscures the steaming bodies. Sounds scatter and sprawl against a circular vibes motif and a wider selection of creatures makes an understated appearance. You feel lost in the open spaces, the Hardanger fiddle’s waver surprisingly gentle, its comfort in the forbidding landscape clear.

There are no sounds that dominate, with everything bubbling underneath the frost, adding to the ambience; the fiddle loose and slow as if awakening and the bass offering a seismic undercurrent, the drama of the vastness rendered in unstructured monochrome. The thought-provoking folky fiddle impressions of “Kalven Reiser Seg” are offset by the sweet counterpoint of harpsichord, while “Sommarbeite” shimmers like the surface of a lake or the chasing of the creatures across the frozen surface, with the sense of momentum coming from the circling guitar and fiddle.

The way the pieces move from structured to more ambient gives the album a natural flow and the sounds of the landscape are absolutely integral to it, with the quartet describing a magical vista; the warm throb of bass accompanies a chattering piano on “Nysnø Over Reinlav”, while the bubble of vibes and the smooth flow of the fiddle tie themselves to the birdsong as it swoops and thrums. It feels like a role call of the fauna that is put under threat by human presence. The melancholy tone of the final track tries to impress upon the listener this impact and the threat to an ancient way of life.

It is a sobering but necessary conclusion to a suite of songs that is a delight to listen to, but contains essential warnings. Hopefully people will listen in both senses of the word.

-Mr Olivetti-

Leave a comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.