Of wombs and tombs: Lhasa de Sela & Ólafur Arnalds collaborate across time, space and death
It never ceases to amaze me how music can connect, unite, communicate, and evoke emotions. How it can transport you from physical realms to realms of thought and philosophy. From one corner of the earth to another. From a womb to a grave… Alright, that last one I’ll need to clarify.
In November 2020, Ólafur Arnalds, the highly talented Icelandic composer (isn’t everyone from that magical island uncommonly gifted?), released his latest album ‘Some Kind of Peace’. As described in the compact PR paragraph:
“Ólafur’s fifth studio album, some kind of peace, is his most revealing and vulnerable work to date. A journey of Ólafur’s personal and creative growth, set against the backdrop of a world thrown into chaos. some kind of peace features guest appearances by Bonobo, Josin and JFDR.”
Perhaps at a time when the world needed it most, he’s come with a beautiful record filled with… well… some kind of peace (a very adequate title indeed). On it, his usual chamber orchestra compositions and piano ponderings are — in my view, more cohesively then ever — woven into a gorgeous tapestry of contemplations.
The guest contributions mentioned definitely add to its strengths. However, the single vocal performance that got to me the most was actually an archival audio fragment that guides in the closing track of the album, called ‘Undone’. It’s an excerpt of an introduction, or explanation rather, that Mexican-American folk singer Lhasa de Sela once gave about her song ‘Soon This Space Will Become Too Small’, the closing track of her 2003 album ‘The Living Road’. It’s a contemplation on birth, life, and death - themes which Arnalds has similarly adopted and adapted for his latest record.
The parallels and differences between the two pieces of art are precisely that thing that make me appreciate the art of music all the more. How it connects a Mexican-American folk singer with an Icelandic composer and connects two works that are 17 years apart and — at this point — also separated by the veil of death on which it muses (Lhasa lost her battle to cancer in 2010). That, of course, adds to the weight of it all.
So what started as a philosophical thought spun from the mind of Lhasa’s father, managed to inspire Lhasa to write and record a haunting track on the cycle of life and death. In some kind of session or interview (I’m not entirely sure what the background of the full fragment was) she elaborates on its origin and meaning. Then, nearly two decades later, the same theme gets revisited by Olafur, while including a fragment of hers — her monologue, not her song that is — in his reflective composition.
And of course it’s not just the process that is so remarkable or profound. It’s the actual words and the concept which they both seek to communicate. One that I couldn’t dare to paraphrase or dissect. But one that has been nestling itself into my brain over the past weeks. Together it makes for a beautiful collection. Lhasa’s words; the poignant delivery of it in her monologue; the haunting song it inspired; and the peaceful tribute that Olafur paid to it. It feels like a thought that has come full circle.
Below, I’ve included the full transcript of the words, the youtube video combining her monologue and the track ‘Soon This Space Will Become Too Small’ and a youtube link for Ólafur’s track ‘Undone’. And of course I’d recommend you to check out more of their work. Hopefully, there will be much more of Ólafur Arnalds’ music to look forward to. Regretfully, we can only enjoy the small body of work that Lhasa de Sela was able to release in her lifetime.
But who knows what she might be up to on the other side of that veil. Let’s hope she was indeed able to begin something else. Who’s to tell?
The full transcript of the introduction
(fragment included in ‘Undone’ between [ ] )
“This is a story about my father… because my father is a very philosophical man. He always has an idea going ‘round and ‘round and around in his mind and each idea that he has, its orbit takes several years to go around. And when he’s really gone all the way through, then he has a new idea.
These days he has a new idea.
His idea is that, when we’re conceived, we appear in our mother’s womb like a little… tiny… light, suspended in an immense space. And there’s no sound. It’s completely dark. And time doesn’t seem to exist. It’s like an ocean of darkness.
Then we’re growing and we keep growing and growing and, as we grow, slowly we begin to feel things… touch things… and touch the walls of our world that we’re in. Then we begin to hear sounds and feel shocks that come to us from the outside. Then, [as we get bigger and bigger, the distance between ourselves and that other outside world becomes smaller and smaller. And this world that we are inside — which seems so huge in the beginning, and so infinitely welcoming — has become very uncomfortable.
And we are obliged to be born. And my father says that birth is so chaotic and violent that he’s sure that, at the moment of birth, we’re all thinking: “This is it. This is death. This is the end of my life.”
And then we’re born and it’s such a surprise… because it’s just the beginning.]
And, in the beginning, we’re very small and the world seems infinitely big. And time seems infinitely long. But then we keep on growing and we learn how to use our senses. And we learn how to touch one more time the contours of the world that we’re in.
And sometimes, mixed in with the sounds and sensations of this world, we hear sounds and feel shocks that come from yet another world. And that other world follows us our whole lives long, as if something is happening just on the other side of a very, very thin wall. But we can forget about it for a long time… and then, all of a sudden, it comes again.
And then, at the end of our lives… we’re obliged to die.
And at that point… my father says that… then, we think we’re really smart, and we think, this time, we know for sure that this is death and that this is the end. Because “everybody knows that”.
But my father thinks that that’s not the end either…
It’s just the beginning of something else.”
The lyrics to ‘Soon This Space Will Be Too Small”
Soon this space will be too small
And I’ll go outside
To the huge hillside
Where the wild winds blow
And the cold stars shineI’ll put my foot
On the living road
And be carried from here
To the heart of the world
I’ll be strong as a ship
And wise as a whale
And I’ll say the three words
That will save us all
And I’ll say the three words
That will save us allSoon this space will be too small
And I’ll laugh so hard
That the walls cave in
The I’ll die three times
And be born again
In a little box
With a golden key
And a flying fish
Will set me freeSoon this space will be too small
All my veins and bones
Will be burned to dust
You can throw me in
To a black iron pot
And my dust will tell
What my flesh would notSoon this space will be too small
And I’ll go outside
And I’ll go outside
And I’ll go outside
