Edward Hancox's Blog, page 23

Sigur Rós : Kveikur – Yes, but is it any good?

On a recent trip to Iceland, ostensibly to promote my book Iceland, Defrosted but really any excuse to visit Iceland, see friends and drink local beer, I spent several days listening to Kveikur the new album from Sigur Rós.

There may not be a better place to listen to Sigur Rós than Iceland, but Kveikur hasn’t had an easy ride. It’s had mixed reviews, constant references to the departure of Kjartan Sveinsson and whether their last album Valtari was simply Sigur Rós on autopilot. It seemed fair then, to give Kveikur a chance.

Here are my thoughts on Kveikur, track by track.

‘Brennisteinn’—debuted at Iceland Airwaves last November, ‘Brennistein’ still sounds terrifying. It sounds like a Velociraptor growling from your kitchen cupboards, before exploding into something much more joyous.

‘Hrafntinna’—initially, I thought this was nothing more than filler, but I’m gradually starting to enjoy it more and more. Try to think of it as a goodbye to Valtari-style Sigur Rós complete with morose brass ending.

‘Ísjaki’—Sigur Rós sound more vibrant than ever. Valtari is a distant memory. Just rips along, and has the most delicious string refrain that reminds me of The Sleepy Jackson. Look them up.

Sigur Rós – Ísjaki (Official Lyric Video) from sigur rós on Vimeo.

‘Yfirborð’—Brennistein’s evil little brother. At once foreboding, with a slowed down Jónsi yawn, and yet as intense as it is exhilarating. Surely one to stay on Sigur Rós playlists for years to come.

‘Stormur’—This sounds like an extra from Jónsi’s solo Go project. All happy chiming and strings, it’s nothing new but it’s passable Sigur Rós.

‘Kveikur’—In stark contrast to ‘Stormur,’ it’s introduction verges on industrial before bristling with energy. Kveikur sounds urgent, raw and suitable for sending all those ‘Hoppípolla’ loving wedding couples scurrying for cover.

‘Rafstraumur’—My favourite track on Kveikur. It sounds like Sigur Rós doing The National, but instead of Matt Berninger’s plaintive voice, Jónsi lends delicious vocals. This is Sigur Rós being a band, not an ambient music sound system. It’s going to be good fun in a live setting. Press repeat.

‘Bláþráður’—maybe this will grow on me too. At the moment it sounds too much like Sigur Rós by numbers. Yeah, it’s ok, but it doesn’t live up to the bands defining moments, or the better tracks on Kveikur.

‘Var’—A small slice of the Sigur Rós that we know and love. Sad and pretty piano providing a perfectly fitting ending to this journey.

I think Kveikur is a triumph. It sounds like a band having fun for a change, and that comes through. Kveikur feels alive. It could be argued that the album was written with a live set in mind, but I don’t much care. This is the sound of Sigur Rós at their most vital in a long time. Turn it up loud and rejoice in the return of Sigur Rós as a band.

Original article at Iceland Review online.

Iceland, Defrosted goes Underground.

I’m pleased to announce that, working with Books On The Underground, Iceland, Defrosted has been released on to the London Underground system.

This is a wonderful scheme, and the brainchild of Holly, who leaves books on tube trains for people to take, read, enjoy and then return for someone else to enjoy.

You can find out more about Books On The Underground here. I love the idea of Iceland, Defrosted whizzing around on tubes, waiting to be discovered.

Takk Fyrir, Wenlock Books

Last night was the third launch of Iceland, Defrosted, following launches in London (where I underestimated the number of attendees) and in Reykjavík (not so much). I had always wanted to do something in the area where I had grown up, so that I could show some gratitude to my friends, family and colleagues who had supported me throughout this whole crazy project.

When looking for venues, I didn’t have to try too hard. I already spend far too much time (and money!) in Wenlock Books in Much Wenlock. This little place bulges at the seems with old and new books, and is regularly voted one of the best independent book shops in the UK. It’s not hard to see why!

Anna, the owner of Wenlock Books, was hugely supportive of the whole idea. We agreed that the bookshop was the ideal place to launch Iceland, Defrosted in Shropshire. As it turns out, we were right.

I arrived with some books, nibbles and the Brennivín. Then the crowds arrived. I was overwhelmed with the support from my family and friends, my publishers (the lovely Helen from Silverwood) and complete strangers who happened to be interested in a half-frozen country not a million miles away. I will never get used to signing books (it feels really awkward!), having my photo taken or being asked whether there will be a second book. I didn’t even have the support of ÍRiS on this occasion.

Wenlock Books was quickly filled to the brim, and everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves immensely. This may, or may not, correlate directly with the consumption of Brennivín. Takk fyrir, Wenlock Books!

24 hour party people : Reykjavík launch

I was talking to an Icelander, when I first thought that something was wrong. I couldn’t figure it out at first, it was so unusual. I am taller than most people, so it came as a surprise that the Icelander I was talking to towered over me. I’m not used to looking up to people when speaking to them, and my neck was beginning to hurt. It seemed entirely appropriate that we were drinking Viking beer.

The second launch party for Iceland, Defrosted was held in Eymundsson, a huge bookstore in downtown Reykjavík. It has four, maybe five floors, each one crammed with books in Icelandic and English. It’s the sort of place that you can lose yourself in. Trust me, I have.

Iceland, Defrosted, fresh from its transport packaging, looked good on the shelves, and I felt immensely proud that it had got this far. It seemed right that it should be on a shelf in Reykjavík, in a book store. That little Puffin on the rear cover? He looked pleased to be back home.

My family who had taken the decision to travel from the UK for the launch had joined me. It was their first time in Iceland, and I had spent the preceding two days showing them the sights. My sister still had Blue Lagoon silica in her eyebrows.

I also got to meet two of my favorite Twitter friends – Inga, from Tiny Iceland and Auður, from I heart Reykjavík. This popular pair have been a constant source of support here in Reykjavík, making sure my Tweets and posts are heard all over the city and further to their huge bands of followers. It was good to finally meet them face-to-face.

Ian & Liz were also present. I had met them at Airwaves last year, and they too had been bitten by the Iceland bug. Fresh from a two week tour of the island, they had kindly coincided their visit to attend my book launch.

I was accompanied again by ÍRiS, who had stolen the show at the London launch a week earlier. ÍRiS produces sublime music, and even on the top floor of a book store in the early evening, she pulled off something spectacular, drawing the audience in to her world. ÍRiS had replaced Rökkurró at the last minute, after a band crisis. I’m grateful for her help and support. Again.

I took the chance to thank the kind hearted Icelanders who had helped me throughout the whole project, in front of the small crowd. I hope my gratitude carried across, and was received in the genuine manner it was meant. I couldn’t have produced a single word of Iceland, Defrosted without their help – the frequent visits, the endless questions and the mispronunciation of every possible Icelandic word. Even tonight, they are still helping me. I received a very kind offer for a lopapeysa to be knitted especially for me, and I could barely contain my excitement.

Afterwards, it was party time. In Reykjavík, this means a long night, but with 24 hour sunlight already confusing my body clock, and the matter of a book launch to celebrate, what else was there to do? We partied long and hard into the night. Ian & Liz were shown a side of Reykjavík that usually remains hidden, but starts to topple with the first shot of Opal, and the addition of an actual Viking to guide us. At 4.30am, I manage to get to bed. I can’t sleep though, as the sun is still streaming through the window and I can’t stop smiling.

Final launch in Much Wenlock on 3rd July.

Icelandic Whisky?

Icelanders love a drink, and yet Iceland has had a chequered past with alcohol. Things are changing though, and a brave group of Icelanders are about to brave their way into the world of whisky.

Whisky (and whiskey) is produced world wide, and I confess to getting very well acquainted with the Scottish and Irish versions, but yet no one has managed to produce Icelandic whisky. Until now.

I found out more from Birgir Már Sigurðsson, one of the Icelanders behind Þoran Whisky.

How is it going to work?

One of the main reasons why no one has managed to start a whisky distillery in Iceland is the cost. It takes a lot of startup capital to get this off the ground, and seeing as this is a product that won’t be ready until after a few years, it’s going to be a while before we see any real profits. In order to minimize the initial startup cost we decided to offer people the option of pre-ordering an entire cask. The customer will pay a small portion of the cost of the cask straight away, the cask is then stored in our warehouse where the customer is free to visit whenever he wants, sample the spirit in the cask and observe the maturation process. Then, when the customer feels that the whisky has matured enough, we bottle it for him. By purchasing a cask, you’re not just getting great whisky. You’re also helping to establish a new industry in Iceland. After the initial cask sale, we can start producing whisky for bottling.

So when will we get our first taste of Icelandic whisky?

We’ll be presenting the business idea to investors after the summer. If we get the funding we can be up and running within 10 months. Which means that if you’re a cask owner you can get you’re first taste in less than a year. However, we recommend letting the whisky mature for at least a year or two. If it’s a bottle of Þoran Whisky you’re after, then you’ll probably have to wait three to four years. But this isn’t a sprint, this is a marathon. We’re in this for the long run. Producing great whisky takes time and patience. If you rush the process, the whisky loses, or rather, never develops it’s character.

What does ‘Þoran’ mean?

‘Þoran’ is an old Icelandic word which means ‘courage’, something that describes what we’re doing very well. The work we’re doing is mirrored in what Icelander’s have had to live with since the colonization of this land. A thousand years ago, someone probably said that settling on this frozen tundra, way up north in the Atlantic ocean, was a pretty bold venture. The same can be said about starting a whisky distillery in Iceland. It’s not going to be easy, in fact, we’re pretty sure it’s going to be damn hard. But just like those Vikings a thousand years ago, we’re going to knuckle down, put some elbow grease into it and make it work. The fact that it’s going to be hard doesn’t scare us, on the contrary, it fuels our determination.

Are you getting help from established distilleries in say, Scotland or Ireland?

Our influences come from many different directions, but our production method will probably most resemble the Scottish and Japanese ways of making whisky. We are also getting a lot of great advice from consultants in Scotland, Canada and the US, who specialize in helping with the establishment of craft distilleries. Furthermore, we hope to attract the attention of the whisky community with this venture and would be happy to see some of the bigger names in whisky invest in Þoran.

How can we keep up to date with your progress?

The project is developing at great speeds and over the course of the summer a lot of exciting things are happening. We’ll be posting regular updates on our website, www.thoran.is, as well as our Twitter account, @thoranwhisky.

I wish Birgir and the team the best of luck. I’m a fan of whisky, so I hope that there venture is successful. I think that the addition of Icelandic water and Icelandic tenacity are sure to make a whisky worth waiting for.

Rökkurró cancel, ÍRiS saves the day!

 

 

Important notice:

In relation to the launch of Iceland, Defrosted in Reykjavik on Saturday, Rökkurró have cancelled their performance due to unforeseen circumstances.

However, ÍRiS had kindly agreed to perform at short notice, for which I’m really grateful. After her London performance, I’m really excited to see her perform again.

It starts at 6pm, at Eymundsson, Austurstræti 18, Reykjavík.

It’s going to be a night to remember!

 

Pascal Pinon Iceland Tour

I’ve been a fan of the Pascal Pinon girls for sometime now, and especially after their Airwaves performances last year.

Twosomeness was one of my top albums from 2012, and is still getting some plays on the old stereo these days.

They were even kind enough to let me use their music for my Kickstarter project.

I was pleased to hear then, that Pascal Pinon were touring Icelandic churches and that my visit to Iceland next week would coincide. They are being accompanied by a woodwind trio, and are playing some truly spectacular locations. I can’t wait. This is going to be special.

Invitation to party!

London Book Launch / Icelander in Training

Don’t get me wrong, the London launch of Iceland, Defrosted at the Embassy of Iceland may have appeared smooth and slick on the surface, but underneath there was a catalogue of nerves and mishaps just waiting to throw the whole thing off the rails.

Take for example, that the Embassy staff had to purchase whole new platters of party food just hours before the event started, that the Ambassador had to return to Iceland on urgent business, that ÍRiS had lost her voice completely not three days previously or that I was so nervous I couldn’t eat. Oh, and someone wanted to bring a dog.

In practice though, everything went just fine. I was in the capable hands of the embassy staff, and especially Eyrún Hafsteindóttir. The Icelanders took over. If there was a problem, it was fixed, and super-efficiently. Waiters had been hired, and even people to meet and greet had been arranged.

ÍRiS arrived and was wonderful, dishing out tips on performing to me whilst simultaneously setting up equipment. She sound checked, and sounded just amazing. Something in her arrangements, in her voice, just sounded like a slice of Iceland. I had a performance all of my own.

Guests, and dog, started to arrive. I found myself tossed around the room, from conversation to conversation, trying to thank and speak to everyone, but probably failing at both.

Axel Nikulasson, the Deputy Head of Mission at Ministry for Foreign Affairs, to give him his full title, started proceeding with a rousing and exceedingly kind speech. He had taken the time to read the book, and this showed. He quoted passages from Iceland, Defrosted (Eurovision!) and even called me an ‘Icelander in training’.

It was my turn next, and I nervously gabbled through my speech, picking up occasional laughs (intentional, of course), and gaining a round of applause on reading an excerpt. I forget to thank my Kickstarter backers, and my Twitter / Facebook crew, most of whom have travelled miles to be here. I hope that they can forgive me, and reassure myself that by launch number 3, I’ll be word perfect.

ÍRiS, though, stole the show. Using piano, loops, the occasional instrument and that voice, she weaves her magic through the audience, capturing each one of us. She performed five pieces, each specially arranged for the evenings performance. I felt my nerves slipping away. This may or may not have coincided with my first glass of wine.

Quentin Bates, my expert proof-reader and esteemed crime writer was in attendance, still offering support and guidance, and a copy of his latest book for me too. The man is too kind.

Guests started to leave, hopefully full of food, drink and with Iceland in their thoughts. There were certainly a number of happy faces, and books tucked under arms.

I am so grateful for everyone for turning up, especially as I am an unknown author, and as Holly Willoughby was signing her new book in the nearby Harrods store. I can’t complete with the Willoughby!

The morning after, I returned to the Embassy to help tidy up and express my thanks for a wonderful event. There was fresh coffee and muffins waiting for me. I got stuck in. I’m an Icelander in training after all.

Further launches of Iceland, Defrosted:

Saturday 29th June – Reykjavík, Iceland

Wednesday 3rd July – Much Wenlock, Shropshire

Icelanders in London

Icelanders in London is the new project from photographer Nick Miners.

Nick Miners is a photographer from London. He has a successful career as a freelancer and is regularly hired by a range of individuals and organisations for his creative approach to photography. Please see his extraordinary promotional images of a contortionist for The Last Exorcism Part 2 film as a prime example. But that’s not all. Nick has a passion for Iceland and Icelanders. When his twin interests combine, something special really happens.

Following on from his successful Svart/Hvít (black and white) series in 2009, Nick has just announced his latest project: Icelanders in London. I was intrigued to find out more. How would Nick portray a true sense of Iceland and Icelanders without being in Iceland itself? Surely without Iceland as its own stunning background, there is a danger that this would just be ‘arty’ portrait shots in London’s bleak streets. It seems I was wrong.

What is Icelanders in London all about?

“It began as part of a People and Places exhibition that a photographer friend of mine, Chris Gravett, was organising with about nine photographers in total. I wanted to meet and photograph Icelanders (the people) living in London (a place) along with something they keep that reminds them of Iceland (another place). It’s about telling the stories about the individuals through their portrait and their object, and hopefully explaining to people just what it is about Iceland and Icelanders that fascinates me.”

Why London?

“Mainly because that’s where I live, and where most expats tend to move to when they come to the UK.”

What have you done so far?

“I advertised on the Facebook page of the Icelandic Society in London (Félag Íslendinga í London) asking for people who would be interested, and quickly got about 20 replies. I sent them all details of what I had planned for the project, and set up a private Facebook group where I could keep everyone updated with what I wanted to do and when.

To date I have photographed six of the Icelanders who have expressed an interest in the project, and met a few more. I like to get to know them as people before shooting them, as taking a portrait requires a level of rapport with the subject which can be lost if they have a camera shoved in their face the moment they meet me. I have built a website specifically to showcase the images I’ve taken, and the first six are now up.”

I really like that each photo shoot incorporates an important possession from each of the Icelanders – where did that idea come from?

“I wanted something that would make the picture about more than just a person. In my experience anyone who has lived in or visited Iceland builds a very strong connection with the country, more so than I’ve seen in any other nation. Telling a story is one thing, but illustrating it with a physical object makes it come to life more.”

One of the images features Nanna Gunnarsdóttir. It’s a beautiful shot; Nick has caught Nanna in a half-smile, with her hair dashing across her face. She is wearing a lopapeysa. The image is strengthened by the words beneath. ‘Nanna has owned her lopapeysa for as long as she can remember; it was knitted for her by her aunt when she was very young. At the time it was quite unusual to have a hood and buttons on an Icelandic sweater, but it has since become quite fashionable.

Although it’s rather small, it still just about fits. Nanna’s aunt made her another lopapeysa a few years ago that is bigger, but the one in the picture is still her favourite even though she describes it as ‘like a short boob tube with sleeves and a hood’ and is still teased by her friends for wearing it.’

Nanna and her ‘peysa was my particular favourite. Is it a true story?

“Yes, absolutely. I can vouch for how much of a tight fit her lopapeysa was at the shoot! “

I enjoy Nick’s images. His photography is stunning. The text is clever and revealing. Somehow, Nick has managed to capture a sense of being an Icelander in London that far transcends the mere combination of photography and text. It’s his passion for Iceland and Icelanders that really shines through.

Nick hopes to expand Icelanders In London website, and to at some point exhibit his images. For more information and to view Nick’s images, please see icelandersinlondon.com and nickminers.com/svart_hvit

Original article published in Iceland Review online.