Wardruna
Gap Var Ginnunga

This collection of music tracks is the first in a trilogy (the Runaljod trilogy) that is expected to be fully released over the span of two years; the other two collections will be called, respectively, Yggdrasill and Ragnarok. It is a musical project of "reinterpretation" of the Scandinavian runic tradition conceived, developed, and finally brought to - for now only partially - completion by Kvitrafn (Einar Selvik), former Gorgoroth and already in numerous other bands, with the help of Øivind (visual and web designer) of Lindy Fay Hella (vocals, percussion), Hallvard Kleiveland (vocals, various instruments) as well as Gaahl, officially credited for vocals and conceptual contributions; many of the vocalisms of various kinds issued in some tracks can be attributed to Gaahl.

The coming out of this "album" wasn't preceded by the usual fanfare that anticipates long-gestation projects (this one was conceived as far back as 2002) created by artists from different backgrounds and already belonging to various celebrated ensembles; rather, it was heralded by a series of smart previews. I discovered this musical product seemingly by chance; in reality, I was gradually led to it, and I actually believe that behind this veritable "commercial operation" (in the technical and not derogatory-vulgar sense of the expression) lies a careful and refined marketing and promotional strategy, primarily conveyed: a) through Gaahl’s prominent (and eloquent, given the number of interviews) presence, at a time when, following some of his personal revelations that do not concern us here, he is - as he hasn’t been for a while - under the "spotlights"; b) through the creation of a rather sober, but nonetheless stimulating, anticipation in specialist press; c) thanks to the creation of a highly elaborate interactive website designed cleverly, where it is possible to leave messages in an intuitive guestbook, find out news and curiosities, and even buy very expensive runes engraved on deer teeth, lucky charms, pendants, and other niceties; d) finally, by the commercialization of a pleasant digipack, suggestive enough and in line with the conventional Scandinavian aesthetic trend for two decades now.

This preamble concerning something not specifically musical was necessary as an introduction to a product that is altogether original, which will not fail to amaze, fascinate, and similarly be enjoyed by lovers of good music of various backgrounds and training.

If I were to indulge in the usual, legitimate "choice of genre label" as a preliminary moment in the analysis of content, I would say that we are faced with an exemplary experiment in ambient-folk, although the definition is, in some ways, reductive and approximate (but, after all, what definition isn’t?). One might possibly use the name Post- or Neo-folk, which for many reasons would not be wrong, but nowadays it has its specific field of application in which, in fact, Wardruna's project cannot be situated.

The twelve tracks of this first chapter are organic and coherent to the point of uniformity, a clearly sought-effect aimed at increasing the sensation of "ancestrality." The techniques mainly used to achieve this result are those of vocal reiteration and "ritual" formulaic, inspired by some literature on ecstatic shamanistic techniques, such as modulated singing or mantras and circular breathing chant, which in the Western collective imagination are decidedly linked to the sacred sphere, maybe with orientalist nuances. The hieratic effect is even more evident in the choirs, echoes, and resonances, and also results from a masterful use of percussion in almost always cadenced times and the use of instruments with quite raw timbres, which aptly fit the “image” of shamanic and tribal primitivism, pursued almost to the boundary of the garish. The melodies are all relatively simple but pleasant, never baroque, never predictable. There isn’t even the shadow of the "song-form," of its structures, of its times. The rhythms are well constructed, albeit a bit repetitive, especially in the twelfth track, certainly the least studied and the most catchy. In fact, it is precisely the rhythm that constitutes the backbone that supports the entire sound structure, providing movement and life or, conversely, quiet, depending on the specific case, arousing expectations or accompanying the other instruments to the concluding notes, often developed in expert endings in crescendo of verses, noises, voices, and sounds (listen, for example, to track no. 6). The variety of the same instruments is then considerable: drums made of skins of poor beasts skinned for the purpose, rattles, castanets, and whatever is percussible or shakeable; among the tonal instruments, however, stands out a consistently arrogant "scacciapensieri" (the same from the Sicilian tradition, according to some ethnomusicologists actually imported by the Normans [Nordmann: Norwegians] during the colonization of the 11th century), various handcrafted string and wind instruments, samplings of natural sounds, and various types of noise, never out of place and never intrusive (nothing à la Einstürzende Neubauten, to be clear). Among the other "unconventional instruments," it is the voice that is played in an absolutely masterful manner. In this regard, I specify that, besides the choirs, modular vocal techniques, and obscure lamentationes have roles of lead voices a female voice, which however does not intervene in all tracks, and a male one, more present).

Precisely regarding the instrumental domain, it seems convenient to open a parenthesis: as declared in many interviews and in the booklet itself, most of the instruments have been made by the same project members, or purchased from local artisans but always hand-made. The use of keyboards is really reduced to the essential, and in any case, these are used only, if at all, for the "soundscapes": the few samplers used have been entirely reprogrammed by the project leader Kvitafn himself, he stated. Also, the entire instrumental and effects direction is his. His favorite instrument, he declared in an interview, is the Norwegian mountain goat horn, paid in Norwegian Kroner the equivalent of 850 euros [!], and whose satyric blast can be enjoyed in various tracks; notably, in the intro and in the last track, where it is accompanied by improbable birds chirping: however, I believe that the powerful blast of such an instrument usually causes the birds to remain terrifyingly silent.

It is difficult to put into words the specific descriptive nuances evoked by this music, and, thinking it over, there are generally not many terms capable of expressing "pure sensations." Playing with synesthetic associations - forgive my audacity - I would say this could be music for a thiasos of blonde girls dressed in leather, fresh trees, and the smell of moss.

I will not launch into comparisons - which would ultimately be totally gratuitous - with other groups or projects "of the genre" (but then, what genre?); I limit myself to pointing out to readers who admire Dead Can Dance, Popol Vuh, as well as a certain less ludicrous cosmic or minimal-ambient (like Vinterriket, but primarily for ideological lineage) and world-music in the style of Peter Gabriel’s The Passion, that this product would likely be quite palatable to their taste. Also, those who appreciate a certain very refined folk might derive great pleasure from listening to Gap Var Ginnuna, but probably, they will have already purchased the CD. As for admirers of black, pagan, or viking metal, it is appropriate to clarify right from the start that, beyond the presence of Gaahl, the clear thematic affinities, and the common geo-cultural origin, in this album there is no link or direct reference to said genres.

Operations like this encourage reflection on the nature of so-called underground music, commercial, independent, alternative, "niche," or however it is called in a Western context, but also on the relationships existing between the music market and certain expressive, formative, and performative forms which, only at the cost of some approximation, can still be defined as "musical" tout court, when instead they often represent true intellectual or, I dare say, hermeneutical initiatives. In fact, some project participants have revealed, in a more or less coherent and systematic way, not only their musical proclivities, the reasons for such a radical and meaningful choice, the almost "initiatory" significance that this work had for them, following a cultural perspective not distant (if not decidedly convergent) from that of various neo-pagan or magic communities of the Wicca, Àsatrú genre, various Odinisms, etc. In approaching a work of this kind, it is obviously desirable to take these suggestions into account, and despite this, it may constitute, in the judgment of the consumer, both a favorable element and decidedly negligible for the entire project. I will not even delve into the historical and historical-religious considerations that are evidently at the base of the authors' "ideology." I limit myself to proposing two interdependent considerations: a) for numerous reasons that it obviously is not the place to address here (but those interested can email me, and I will recommend a rich bibliography on the subject), the suggestions so well expressed by this music are completely wrong from a historical-musicological point of view, or rather, they do not have a value that transcends or underlies the artistic one; b) therefore, much is gained by enjoying this work as a very free interpretation and above all as the fruit of a beautiful musical and descriptive sensibility. The rest is imagination, and that is the most important thing.

In conclusion, I hope that Gap Var Ginnuna does not fail to attract the attention it deserves, being a highly evocative product, well-played, well-composed, well-conceived, and that, a rare thing nowadays – more due to our deteriorating sensitivity than the works that could still keep it alive –, is able to evoke emotions.