Chapter 22 of Search For a Dancer, a memoir of a week spent in Iceland in November 2022
After leaving the urban-techno-gloom of Hafnartorg, arriving at Hildur Yeoman’s Boutique was akin to being teleported from a Stasi prison into a lively slumber party. Vibrant clothes from the shop surrounded us giving the space the feeling of a bedroom (or a very large clothes closet!) With the welcoming vibes and fab fashion emanating from the duo that is Cyber the audience was up for anything and they received a performance for the ages, or at least for a Friday afternoon.
It was a wild show. The couple’s coordinated dance moves fit the hip-hop backing tracks of Karaoke Song perfectly (see 1st video below.) Some added social commentary was thrown in on the song No Cry - a riot of a song about a disconsolate twerker’s* dealings with sadness (but not romantic sadness!) It had a scream-along part in the middle that the whole crowd got into (see 2nd video below).
Salka is another Icelandic Renaissance artist, she also performs as Neonme and with the outrageous feminist rap collective Daughters of Reykjavík. An accomplished audio engineer, Salka has worked in theatre productions in Iceland and Germany. I sensed that her relationship with Jóhanna was more than professional, in a very good way. What a delight to see two women on the same wavelength, with an obvious and deep affection for each other, prancing about in pajamas!
A dance party is nothing without dances, amiright? :
I came to Iceland looking for a dancer and I found two! Cyber’s intense set was too soon over. There was a hole in my Airwaves schedule,—none of the early evening acts were must-sees—so I headed over to Þjóðleikhúsið (The National Theatre), where an evening of drama and even more surprises awaited.
Airwaves started with a mid-morning concert at the senior residence Grund. The President of Iceland, Halla Tómasdóttir, spoke, first addressing the children in the crowd and then the seniors and festival goers.
When Halla finished the first performer was GDRN, a brilliant singer/songwriter who had the audience mesmerized with her traditional songs in Icelandic:
The elderly gentleman on the far left was no doubt once a pianist, he played “air piano” along with the band:
Bríet played some pleasant folk-pop songs in a verrry furry suit:
Then I was off to the pool again where I talked with several other festival-goers and a violinist about the festival, its performers and the politics of Icelandic musical acts getting into the festival.
In the afternoon I saw Anderverel at Lucky Records. He is an ex-pat from Mexico, and has lived in Iceland for eight years. His songs were filled with a sense of melancholy and longing, his drummer gave a lesson in precise underplaying:
I then heard the quirky keyboard/drum duo Mag og Tómas at Reykjavík Records. Notice the music box piano in the foreground and the red rubber chicken to the left of the keyboard, both were used in the performances:
After taking a close-up of Mag's ring I caught a bit of Elin Hall warming up at 12 Tónar:
At Space Odyssey, the French singer Roukie was barely visible playing with Ulfúr, who was invisible in the low-ceiling room:
Smekklysa had the spacey K.óla, a bass/keyboard singing/performance duo, they performed Art-songs about longing abetted by some clever choreography. Original and very sweet:
After dinner, I went out to catch some theatre again, this time to Tjarnarbíó. In the lobby a man greeted me thinking I was someone he knew from 30 years ago. I hated to disappoint him, he seemed like a nice guy. The lobby there is very nice, almost homey:
The play was the stylized comedy 40.000 Fet, it was about two female flight attendants and their flight crew. It was quite bawdy at times, with a serious ending addressing mortality. A nice twist was that when you entered the theatre space the actors portraying the flight attendants greeted you in character, as if you were the passengers:
One more show tonight, this time at Iðno. It was an Airwaves warm-up show featuring acts from Marvaða, a female-oriented record label. Mr. Silla, and Salka Valsdóttir, both fine singers, performed:
Then, to my delight, I spotted Hekla Magnusdóttir, virtuosa thereminist hiding in Salka’s band. She played an achingly beautiful solo that stunned the crowd:
A pretty good day overall, all the musical acts were rewarding, with GDRN delivering the most professional and touching performance.
And Hekla was the icing on the cake.
Cyber is a spin-off from the immensely popular and influential musical collective Daughters of Reykjavík. This video was shot in Yeoman, an upscale fashion boutique in downtown Reykjavík. This song is a parody of a pop karaoke but they have also done a ton of other material, as a duo and with guests—check out their YouTube performances.
Salka Valsdóttir (aka Neonme)and Jóhanna Rakel are the performers here.
Another great Iceland Airwaves 2022 off-venue show.
In Greek mythology, Melpomene is typically portrayed as serious and pensive, reflecting the solemn nature of tragedy. She is said to inspire playwrights, actors, and poets who seek to explore and depict the darker aspects of human existence, such as suffering, loss, and the inevitability of fate. Throughout history, Melpomene has been an enduring symbol of tragic artistry, inspiring countless writers, artists, and performers to create works that explore the depths of human emotion and the complexities of the human condition.
The Muse of sacred poetry, sacred hymn, dance and eloquence.
Polyhymnia was revered by Greek poets, orators, and musicians who sought inspiration for their hymns, prayers, and speeches. She was believed to inspire individuals to express themselves eloquently and to convey profound truths through language and gesture. Polyhymnia played an important role in inspiring creativity and fostering spiritual and intellectual growth.
In Greek mythology, Terpsichore ("delight in dancing") embodies the beauty, elegance, and rhythm of dance.
Terpsichore was honored in various festivals and celebrations and occupies a central place in Greek mythology as the Muse of dance and choral poetry, embodying the joy and beauty of artistic expression through movement and music.
Chapter 11 of Search For a Dancer, a serial memoir about a week I spent in Iceland. Mondays on Flippism is the Key
After leaving Maria, I had some free time before the before the first off-venue show began. I wandered down to the old harbour area to check out one of the new off-venues, the Hafnartorg Gallery, a food court in a multipurpose building. The last time I was here (in 2018) complex was under construction. Its appearance is undistinguished, but is far from the worst of the new developments in the area. On the way to it I passed Hafnarstræti, a monument to the dearth of imagination of the city planners:
This area used to be open to views of the harbour, of Mount Esja and to the skies above. Now it was a: scene from a nightmare; a mausoleum; an abattoir; a perverse temple dedicated to Mammon. Nearby streets, even Austurstræti with its tacky bars and stores, were full of life but Hafnarstræti’s brutal austerity had even driven the low-life idlers and drunken panhandlers away.
I went into Kolaportið where the Airwaves HQ was and picked up my Airwaves wrist-band. The scene there seemed to be decidedly low-key, although they are nearly sold-out. I then walked over to Austurstræti where I stopped into the usurous 10-11 convenience store to buy a replacement toothbrush. They had some for the equivalent of $8 (ouch!), but also had a child’s toothbrush for $2 (that would actually fit into my travel toiletry kit-yay!)
On my way back to my apartment via Lækjargata, I walked past the new Sirkus bar, now featuring Indian food. A big change from the old place that I visited in 2006. While change is inevitable, and can be for the common good, what I feared in 2015 has now become a reality.
After freshening up I made my way over to the Smekkleysa record store off-venue, where Hekla, a famous (and famously shy) Thereminist was setting up her gear in an unadorned basement room, a truncated white cube about 10 meters on a side with a 5 meter-high ceiling. It was just the two of us as all the other people were in the store proper (on the level above). She had finished with her equipment and was standing alone, looking a bit forlorn. I made my way over and started gushing like a fan-boy: “Oh, I have to tell you I much I enjoy your music, I first saw you playing with Bárujárn, your music has become part of the soundtrack of my life, it’s on heavy rotation in my car, I listen to it all the time! Thank you so very much!” She smiled and clasped my hand and simply said “Takk.” My blood pressure rose with the touch of her hand.
Other people began wandering in, including Óttar Proppé (below), who had recently made a video with Hekla so I reluctantly left her to mingle with her friends while I picked out a dark corner (and the only chair!) to catch her performance.
Hekla augmented her Theremin with backing tracks and an occasional keening vocal. As she continued her performance I was transported to the never-never-land of imagination. As eerie as the theremin sounds, it is absolutely mesmerizing to watch someone play it:
After her set I returned to the apartment and made a light dinner of Fiskibollur (fish cakes) that were entirely… adequate. It is better to eat light before a night out than to be logy from over-indulgence. You can always grab a pylsur later…
The evening the Airwaves had a preview show (at Iðno, a nineteenth-century concert venue), a new feature at Airwaves. It seemed to be more of an ad hoc collection of Icelandic musicians in various proto-groups than established acts. Kilður, a choir, was wrapping up their set when I walked in and of course they were wonderful (Icelandic choirs are always great.) The next performer was Neonme (Salka Valsdóttir) who stunned the crowd with her art-songs. Backed by a sax, harp and guitar, Neonme is also dancer; when she wasn’t singing her graceful moves put the crowd in a trance. Her guitarist also sang a song; she had an angelic voice, I was transported. There were
also some what I thought might be sound effects, or perhaps they were
glitches? Neonme was enchanting as she sang
melancholy tunes of regret, a tiny bit like Lana Del Rey. Her peek-a-boo
“Peter Pan” outfit made for a beautiful, transcendent experience:
As the intensity of the set increased, it seemed as if there would be a point where something would have to give and it did: a member of the crowd collapsed, right in front of the stage. Immediately the crowd gave her space and some water and the venue’s crew opened the side doors of the venue to let in some welcome fresh air. The afflicted audience member recovered but the spell had been broken. Another group, Kónguló, came on but was plagued by equipment issues. In an attempt to preserve any lingering afterglow, I left and went back to the apartment for a relatively early bedtime. It meant missing some other good acts but tomorrow would be a full day and I needed to get up early; there would be no pool visit in the morning.
