Released by Ftarri/Meenna in 2022.

Composer/improviser Magnus Granberg, who lives in Stockholm, has presented outstanding composed works through Skogen, the ensemble he directs, and experimental music ensembles, projects and labels from around the world. He has released three CDs on the Meenna label: "Whose Words?"(meenna-983 / 2017), documenting a trio improvisation performance with Tetuzi Akiyama and Henrik Olsson; and two albums titled "Come Down to Earth Where Sorrow Dwelleth" (meenna-970, meenna-966 / 2020), each containing a different version, performed by a different ensemble, of the same composition by Granberg.

When Granberg accepted an invitation he received in September 2019 to participate in a project planned by Swedish artists including Leo Svensson Sander (cello), Stina Hellberg Agback (harp) and Eva Lindal (violin), it was the first step on the road to creating the work recorded on this CD. Granberg wrote the composition in the midst of the Covid-19 pandemic that began the following year, completing the quartet version, "How Lonely Sits the City?" (54 minutes). In October 2020, Sander, Agback, Lindal and Granberg (on prepared piano) recorded the work, and that recording is presented on this album.

Granberg subsequently prepared the extended version of "How Lonely Sits the City?" for his own group, Skogen. This was recorded by a seven-member Skogen ensemble, and released on the UK label Another Timbre in February 2022.

Reviews:

Even then thanks to the Meenna label, in 2020, we had the chance to enjoy a double perspective on the chamber compositions of Sweden’s Magnus Granberg: from “classical” quintet to electroacoustic quartet, the score of “Come Down to Earth Where Sorrow Dwelleth” took on remarkably divergent characters, projecting the original “inner scanning” on the edge of silence – and here I quote myself – into a sharper and more contrasted sonic horizon, sustained by the “impossible” dialogue between the timbral fullness of the acoustic sources and the hermetic, atonal counterpoints of Toshimaru Nakamura’s no-input mixing board. Something similar happens with the present version of “How Lonely Sits the City?”, a piece for mixed septet published last February by Another Timbre: the performance by the unfailing Skogen ensemble, of which Granberg is both member and conductor, is here reduced to a dialogue between chordophones only; a quartet marked by a tight and almost urgent interaction, moved by a constant tension even if destined to irresolution.
Already in itself, the downsizing of the ensemble allows the audio direction to “zoom in”, to get closer to the heart of the musical action without afterwards having to sacrifice any detail to the final mix. Continuing in the metaphor, one could say that this interpretation constitutes the focusing of a previously misty, elusive scenario, here as if evoked in its fundamental eidetic traits, the fragile skeleton that supports its uneven structure. What remains unchanged, however, is the bouncing dynamics between the parts, the play of mirrors that never give back an entirely faithful image but only a vaguely resembling one. Thus the strokes of the harp closely follow the punctuations of the prepared piano, the violin and cello trace fleeting figures with their bows to then blend with the other voices in the pizzicati; a controlled whirling of atoms that leaves no room for colouring or atmospheric complements, thus revealing the other face – no less enigmatic and fascinating – of Magnus Granberg’s reductionist poetics.

Michele Palozzo, Esoteros

In 2020 the Japanese Meenna label took the unprecedented step of releasing two different versions of Magnus Granberg's composition Come Down to Earth Where Sorrow Dwelleth within months of one another, the first performed by the American quartet Ordinary Affects, the second by a Japanese quartet of sho, koto, prepared piano and no-input mixing board; both versions were very well received.

In March 2022, Another Timbre released How Lonely Sits the City?, recorded in June 2021, and played by the septet Skogen comprising two violins, one played by Eva Lindal, harp played by Stina Hellberg Agback, prepared piano played by Granberg himself, vibraphone, glockenspiel, whistling, objects, friction, piezo, percussion; it was very well received, with Granberg and Skogen both being praised.

The composition had been requested of Granberg in September 2019 by Agback and cellist Leo Svensson Sander; when work on it was about to start, the arrival of Covid and the lockdown led to a rethink. The piece that initially emerged was for a quartet comprising violinist Eva Lindal, Sander on cello, Agback on harp and Granberg on piano; however, as he wanted to do something during lockdown with his group Skogen, Granberg wrote additional parts to expand the piece to seven players, the version released on Another Timbre. Now, in a move reminiscent of the 2020 events, Meenna has released the quartet version of How Lonely Sits the City?, with the quartet of Lindal, Agback, Granberg and Sander.

If all of the above chopping and changing is confusing, it can be boiled down to a very simple resumé. Two different versions of How Lonely Sits the City have been issued, a septet version on Another Timbre and a quartet version on Meenna. The two versions are subtly different but each of them is excellent and highly rated. Rather than opting for one version, listeners—particularly Granberg afficionados—are recommended to hear both as they complement one another well and make fascinating listening.

John Eyles, All About Jazz

Always a good thing when new music gets a second recording so soon after the first; or in this case, the other way around. Last year Another Timbre released a 2021 recording of Magnus Granberg’s How Lonely Sits the City? and now the Japanese Meenna label has issued a performance from 2020. The earlier version is for quartet only (Eva Lindal on violin, Leo Svensson Sander, cello and Stina Hellberg Agback on harp around Granberg’s usual prepared piano), without the electronics or percussion of the Another Timbre seven-piece version. Of the latter, I wrote that it had “the sparsest texture I’ve yet heard in Granberg’s compositions, even more so than in his quartet Nattens skogar…. while Granberg added parts for a larger ensemble, the prevailing mood remained small and sparse, with each musician adding to the overall work as sparingly as possible, making each individual sound count.” Hearing it now in its original form, it’s curious how the texture is even more open, while sounding less wintry or alienating. The combination of instruments is a little warmer, even as the group’s playing is just as faint and attenuated (save the cellist, all returned for the later recording). What’s most intriguing here is the way the work falls open, like a loosened knot, revealing details in its construction, showing how Granberg’s techniques change over the course of a piece to produce different interplays of sound. At times, the music falls into near silence as violin and piano tentatively exchange single notes, like a Cage piece in times when he was at his most reticent.

Ben Harper, Boring Like a Drill