Reviews of Håkon Thelin: a p)reference to other things

 
This CD may at first, superficially, appear as one of those contemporary recordings that you listen to once and then put on the shelf, as the case is with so many modern releases… but there is more here, and simply Thelin’s choice of musical material makes listening interesting and revealing for anyone with some experience of modern art music.

Thelin handles the situation like a master, and a master of his instrument he is, which this Albedo CD has proven to me – and to further develop what I said in the beginning, this CD is more than a mere demonstration of technical skills and a show-off of avant-garde art music, because I’ve found a lot of high-end listening pleasure here, many surprising moments of incalculable combinations of musical ingredients and an astonishing richness of artistic ingenuity and musical creativity. Praise be!
- Sonoloco Record Reviews, Click HERE to read the whole review

This fine album by the Norwegian double bassist Håkon Thelin opens with his own Introduction: Minuet in C, a delightful rococo pastiche which is gradually submerged in domestic-sounding noises by percussionist Ingar Zach. Valentine (1969) by American composer Jacob Druckman, in contrast, is highly theatrical and demanding. The soloist yells, whispers, sighs, and treats the bass as a percussion instrument, knocking and caressing the body. Flashy? Perhaps, but the effects are dazzling and the sound is wonderful.

The level of virtuosity required by Xenakis’ Theraps (1976) is of an altogether different order, and Thelin’s flamboyant interpretation meets the challenge head-on. His performance is enhanced by the vivid recorded sound. Thelin’s dizzying glissandos plus see-sawing yet beautifully controlled crescendos and diminuendos project and recede, and rise and fall in musical space. The “beating” effect of near-unison double-bowed lines constitute a further visceral assault – not to be listened to if you’re feeling a little queasy, as I was on the first playing. This is probably the most memorable interpretation since Barry Guy’s legendary performance, which to my knowledge has not appeared on CD.

 The humorous Intermezzo: Sonate in B by Thelin and Zach segues into their entertaining Heartbreak Motel, which incorporates part of Øyvind Torvund’s A dog named garage. Bent Sørensen’s The hill of the heartless giant (2001) is, as Thelin writes: “lyrical and pulsating” and magically meditative, while Xenakis’ brief Charisma (1971) for bass and saxophone is coruscating.

 A beautifully-conceived release.

- Double Bassist