Can you tell us about the title; where does it come from and what is its significance?

The title is culled from the last line of a poem by Matthäus von Collin which was set to music by Franz Schubert and published in 1825 under the title ’Nacht und Träume’. The title, ’Holde Träume, kehret wieder!’ could be translated to ’sweet dreams, come back!’ or ’fair dreams, return!’ (Richard Wigmore’s translation). It’s a lovely song, which in its most obvious and literal interpretation is about night and dreams and the longing for the night and the dreams to return when waking up to a new day. After having finished the piece I also by chance realised that ’Nacht und Träume’ also is the title of one of Beckett’s late, minimal (and in this particular case more or less wordless) plays for television, in which the last line of the song is first hummed and then silently sung by a male voice, possibly by the main (or even sole) character if I remember correctly.

Schubert as reconfigured by Beckett isn’t a bad description of your music! I feel there’s an underlying romanticism, but it coexists with, or perhaps is buried deep beneath, a late modernist sensibility that is melancholic bordering on despair.

Yes, that’s actually quite a good description and analysis of my music, I guess! I have of course constantly been returning to Schubert over the years and reading Beckett (particularly his late prose works such as ’Company, ’Worstward Ho’ and ’Ill Seen, Ill Said’) was certainly of great importance and even something of a revelation to me in the early 2000s when I made my first attempts to reorient aesthetically after having lost faith in playing jazz and playing the saxophone.

In most of your compositions, a lot of the music is derived by substantially re-working existing pieces. Is this the case here too, and if so, what is the source material?

Yes, listening to and being very moved by ’Nacht und Träume’ served as an impetus to write something myself, and the song itself accordingly served as a starting point for the new piece. That being said, there are no extensive quotations except for the use of the rhythmic structure of the last line of the song. Apart from that the materials of the song mainly served as a point of departure: rhythmic phrases were fragmented and divided into tiny cells that were treated and recombined in various ways, and parts of the tonal structure were used as a point of departure when creating a new, modal framework for the piece.

As ever, there is so much improvisational input that - although I could easily identify both realisations as being your music - I don't think that I could have identified them as being the same piece.  That may just be due to my lack of musical training, but does it matter in any way?  Do you want your compositions to be identifiable as individual pieces, or are you happy for them to become part of a large but somewhat undifferentiated pool of music?

Well, that hasn’t really been that important to me so far. On the contrary I have often considered the individual pieces to be landscapes which could be perceived very differently depending on whom is traveling through them and how and when it is done, since there are so many (innumerable) ways of traversing them. And in a way I have also often considered the individual pieces all to be a part of a larger but very similar landscape, or perhaps like different outcomes of the same (or slowly evolving) genetic constitution, to use another analogy. Lately though, I have been experimenting with other ways of approaching the materials, trying to explore other potentials and organisational dynamics in the music which are situated on different positions of the spectrum of coherency and consistency on the one hand, and indeterminacy and individual and collective freedoms on the other. This is partly related to the question of writing music for musicians and ensembles with different schoolings and trajectories in and through music in a way which feels comfortable for the musicians while at the same time hopefully yielding a consistent, coherent, lively and interesting result, but also to the question of exploring inherent potentials in the materials themselves and the many possible ways of organising them.

This is a double album, consisting of two different realisations of 'Holde Traume', a septet version by Skogen, and a more minimal version by the Nattens inbrott quartet. Did you envisage this possibility of two different ensembles realising the piece for different instrumentation from the start of the project, or was it something that happened by chance?

Well, even if that’s almost always a latent or tacit possibility, I actually originally wrote the piece in order to have something to play with Nattens inbrott, a new quartet with myself, percussionist Erik Carlsson and two fabulous Norwegian string players, violinist Vilde Sandve Alnaes and double bass player Inga Margrete Aas, perhaps best known from their brilliant string duo Vilde & Inga. Around the same time (which was still during the pandemic) I realized that we should try do something with Skogen as well, but since I didn’t have the time to write a new piece, I simply decided that it perhaps could be interesting to hear how the piece would turn out when being played in two different settings and by partly different musicians. So I simply wrote some additional parts for Skogen and then we recorded the two different versions on two different occasions with just a few weeks in between, both being recorded at Atlantis here in Stockholm.

That’s interesting.  Did Vilde & Inga approach you about forming the quartet, or did you suggest it to them? (And what does Nattens inbrott mean, by the way?)  Obviously the musicians in Skogen know your work intimately, and have played a role in the way it has developed over the years, but the Nattens inbrott quartet also sound as if they’ve been playing your music for a long time. They’re extraordinarily accomplished, so that listening to the two realisations blind, I would be hard-pressed to say whether the quartet or septet were playing your music for the first time.

No, it was I who approached them. After having heard a few of their recordings on the internet over the years and finally hearing them play an incredible concert at Rönnells Antikvariat in Stockholm (which also happens to be where my day job is at) I was thoroughly and emphatically convinced that they would be a perfect match for my music. We have actually just played one concert yet (partly due to the pandemic) which took place the day before the studio recording, but we hope to be able to play a little bit more the forthcoming years. ’Nattens inbrott’ means ’the break of night’, which of course seems to fit the nocturnal qualities of the music as well as the source materials of the piece itself rather well, I guess.

As far as you're concerned, would it be valid for ensembles to take other scores of yours and make realisations using just some of the parts? Is this something that has happened already?

Yes, that is perfectly possible and I guess that has more or less already happened. But if so, I quite often want to adapt the pieces gently in terms of which parts may or should be used, and if the instrumentation differs slightly, I prefer to adapt and revise appropriate parts for the new instruments.

Reviews:

When Swedish musician and composer Magnus Granberg's first album on Another Timbre, Ist Gefallen In Den Schnee, was released in 2012, it was credited to Skogen, the nine-(or seven-or ten-) member ensemble in which he played piano (prepared or not) and/or clarinet. It was not until his fifth release on the label, How Deep is the Ocean, How High is the Sky (2015) that Granberg was credited by name. As those album titles suggest, Granberg has often been inspired by other composers' works, although he has never plagiarized others' work.

In recent years, Granberg has increasingly developed the habit of recording his compositions with different ensembles often playing completely different instruments. So, in April and November 2019, in Connecticut and Tokyo respectively, for two separate albums on the Japanese Mmeena label, he recorded two versions of his composition "Come Down to Earth Where Sorrow Dwelleth," the first played by the American violin-cello-guitar-vibes quartet Ordinary Affects plus Granberg himself on prepared piano, the second by a Japanese trio playing sho, 20-string koto and no-input mixing board again plus Granberg on prepared piano. Both versions were highly praised on release. In October 2020 in Stockholm, Granberg recorded a quartet version of "How Lonely Sits the City," played on cello, harp, prepared piano and violin, for Mmeena and, in June 2021, also in Stockholm, he recorded a version of the same piece played by a seven-member Skogen, for Another Timbre.

All of that is relevant to the album Holde Träme, kehret wieder! (sweet dreams return), a double CD with the first disc featuring a quartet version of the title piece played by the quartet Nattens inbrott, including violin, double bass, percussion, and Granberg on prepared piano, the second disc a septet version played by a seven-member Skogen including Granberg; both versions were recorded at Atlantis in Stockholm in November 2021. Granberg on prepared piano and Erik Carlsson on percussion are the only players to feature in both versions.

As is customary with Granberg compositions, he does not tell musicians exactly when to play particular parts but leaves it to their discretion when they play them. The result is music that sounds as if it contains elements of considerate improvisation. Both versions are played at a relaxed pace and evolve gently and slowly with no shocks or surprises along the way. The soundscape is relatively uncrowded throughout, meaning that the contributions from all the players can be clearly heard and savored. For instance, notes on the piano are usually struck once and allowed to decay away slowly so that they can be savored without interference from other instruments. This is as true of the septet version as it is of the quartet; in the septet version, it sounds as if the players have been considerate not to drown one another out or mask each other's playing. The end result is that the two versions can be played back-to-back and heard as equals, irrespective of which is played first. Altogether, this beautiful music is well up to the high standards that Granberg has attained and maintained throughout his recording history.

John Eyles, All About Jazz

Holde Träume, Kehret Wieder! is a new double CD  release from Stockholm-based Magnus Granberg, whose work sits between modern chamber music & gentle improvision. This release takes in two different takes on his 2021 composition Holde Träume, Kehret Wieder!( Sweet Dreams, Return!)- one version for a quartet & one for a septet. And as we’ve come to expect from Mr Granberg- both versions are wonderful sparse-yet-compellingly detailed works, which are equally lulling enchanting & decidedly haunting.

As we most of Granberg’s output over the last few years this new double CD set appears on the always worth Another Timbre. The two CDs come presented in the label house style sparse/ white mini gatefold sleeve- which features two crude yet rather eerier cryptic monochrome drawings, one of two people sitting in a room looking at a painting, and the other of an industrial unit which has a bridge joined to it- upon this is a placed single chair. Unfortunately, there was a mix-up with the disc labelling so the labelled quartet version is the septet, and vice versa- no big issue, but something to be aware of if you purchase it. And to do just that drop by here

So first up on disc one, we have the version for the quartet, played by Nattens inbrott- which runs at forty-four minutes and forty seconds. This features Vilde Sandve Alnaes- violin. Inga Margrete Aas- double bass. Magnus Granberg- prepared piano, and Erik Carlsson- percussion.  The work opens with two sparse notes on the piano, which is followed by a sudden clipped/ uneven note- this starts the whole thing in a jarring emotional felt manner. As we progress the keys plod out their uneven, yet hinting at harmonic pattern- which is carefully added to by forlorn string saws, sad bass bows, and subtle percussive drags and creeks. It almost sounds like some form of ancient / thought-broken clockwork cobweb-wrapped humanoid figure is slowly twitching and turning into an awkward, yet kind of beautiful life.  Each additional tone/ subtle shift in the works flow is done in a delicate, yet atmospheric manner- with the players wonderfully carving the roughly melodic heart and moodily shimmering shape of the piece- which at points feels like it could all suddenly fall apart.  Along the work's length, there are some truly spell-binding elements, which appear, then disappear- like the gentle stretching/ spinning tones, the eerie sort of warbling saw, the dragging slightly forking element, the almost dusty breathing tone, etc.   Like the best of Granberg's work- this take on the piece grows in both clarity and atmospheric depth the more times you play it.

Moving onto disc two we have the version for septet, which is played by Skogen, and runs at a second over the forty-five-minute mark. The players here are Anna Lindal- violin.  Leo Svensson Sander- cello,   Stina Hellberg Agback- harp.   Erik Carlsson- percussion. Magnus Granberg- prepared piano. And   Henrik Olsson, objects, friction   Petter Wästberg, objects, contact mics. If the first take on the piece felt decidedly dusty & clockwork- this version more slowly shambling & dragging. The tones feel both cleaner, yet at points more grating/ jarring. There is a feel of a more defined shift/ addition here, but it still all remains very fragile & hangs together.  You can recognise certainly points/ events in the pieces unfold- yet they largely feel different- in both their tonal clarity and effect.  At points, the whole thing takes on a rather creaking & rattle slurred type groove- which almost brought to a dragged-out and gone to the dark side take on exotica.  At other times it sounds like some form of organic bound glitching experimental electronica, with plodding almost harmonic/ haunting undercarriage. 

On paper, the idea of hearing the same piece played by both a quartet &  a septet may sound slightly bizarre/ pointless. But truly even after playing one after another, you feel, and wholly enjoy the very different takes on Holde Träume, Kehret Wieder!. All told another captivating journey into Mr Granberg's distinctive sound world- and most certainly one of this year's modern composition highlights. 

Roger Batty, Musique Machine