Pascal Pinon's Quiet Revolution

Pascal Pinon, October, 2009

“... the Icelandic duo known as Pascal Pinon create luscious, minimalistic audible soundscapes that are fiercely intent upon dazzling those who are fortunate enough to stumble across the intimate nature of their work.”  ~ Broden Terry, Made of Chalk

I’ve lived with “Twosomeness”, the new album by the Icelandic duo Pascal Pinon, for about a month now. It has grown on me, in ways which are hard to explain. Putting usual musical categories aside, the music it contains appeals to this listener more on an emotional level than an intellectual one. It also has a strong spiritual element, not in any formal religious sense, but rather as an exploration of sub-conscious archetypes. It is an unashamed celebration of girlishness but not frivolous or juvenile; it meets Robert Graves’ definition of poetry: “That which cannot be improved.”

These twin sisters have been described as having “...a lovely relaxed intimacy about this album, as if you’re overhearing the siblings exchanging whispered secrets.” Another reviewer noted that their music “... is reminiscent of the sacred secular choral music crafted by the brilliant Julianna Barwick.”

Stacey Pavlick, writing in Spectrum Culture, elegantly summed up Twosomeness' appeal:

“Twosomeness nestles into the conceit of an album that is populated by just two people – but in doing so they nurture another dyad, that of sender and receiver. To hear it properly, you don’t so much turn up the volume as approach the source: it doesn’t get big, so get small, if you please.”

Tad Machida, writing on the UCLA Radio website, goes even further:

“... Pascal Pinon’s masterful manipulation of “moments” when melodies, mood and rhythm all come together to give you an experience that can only be described as otherworldly. Twosomeness is a sensually wonderful album to listen to. Having listened to this album, I cannot give anything other 10.”

Finally, Juraj Kušnieri, writing for Reykjavík Revisited, started his review of the group's recent show in Bratislava with this intriguing teaser:

“Pascal Pinon’s delicate gig at the main hardcore-anarchistic club in Bratislava was unusual experience of charm and beauty.”

And ended it it with this:

“Pascal Pinon brought much beauty into The Intergalactic Monster. It is going to be one of those gigs that are long remembered. I would not be too surprised if in few years, when Ásthildur and Jófriður – together, or each on her own – will be “really great”, we will, like old veterans, tell our younger friends: “Yes, we saw them at Obluda in 2013, a club with no backstage area, and it was very beautiful!”

   The revolution has begun.

Do Not Underestimate Pascal Pinon

Image: Fréttablaðið/Stefán

Twosomeness: an album by Pascal Pinon

It’s been nearly 4 years since a group of 14 year-old Icelandic girls recorded the tracks which would become their first album, Pascal Pinon. Their second album was finally released in the United States last Tuesday. Despite internet teasers and download opportunities, I’m just enough of a Luddite to wait until I actually get a CD so that I may give it, in its entirety, my undivided attention. Jófríður and Ásthildur Ákadóttir, now 18, recorded this album last year under the aegis of Alex Somers who has worked with numerous performers, most notably Jónsi of Sigur Rós. I was a bit apprehensive about this, I wondered if the ethereal nature of Pascal Pinon’s music could survive the transition from the bedroom to the studio. I have often heard it said that it is the second album which really exposes the character of a musical group or performer.

I need not have worried. Twosomeness is a great album. Ekki vanmeta, the opening track, is a knockout.  All the songs are strong. The lyrics, in Icelandic, English and Swedish, are at times wistful and ambiguous, but never shallow or trite. The vocal and instrument arrangements are magnificent; inspiring and challenging by turns. Jófríður has always had a knack for writing arresting melodies, but this disc also shows Ásthildur’s keyboard prowess, particularly on the track Bloom, where the sounds of her harmonium and bassoon are as otherworldly as that of any synthesizer. Kertið, which was also on their first album, I found a bit over the top—the fussy production actually diminished the raw emotional impact of the original. There were a couple of other times when I would have liked Alex to dial down the reverb a bit but, for the most part, he lets the music shine through. This CD is available from Amazon and other on-line sources, and yes, it is also available on vinyl, bless their retro hearts.

Pascal Pinon is also noteworthy for its strong DYI ethic. They have created a very entertaining and informative, if somewhat jumbled,  web site where you can catch glimpses of the twins' other artistic interests, along with the occasional translation*. These sisters seem to have retained a healthy and refreshing attitude about the music business. Although they are still in school they have already performed in China, Japan and numerous places in Europe.

   Here are a few videos - some promotional, some from concerts. The last one features their younger sisters (WARNING: POSSIBLE CUTE OVERLOAD!):

In Japan,  Ekki vanmeta:



Playing Djöflasnaran on the Icelandic coast at 2 A.M.:



Sumarmál, from last year's Iceland Airwaves:



And, finally, Entertaining Japanese guests in their home with Somewhere:



I’ve loved the music of this group since I first heard it at Iceland Airwaves in 2009. On the basis of this effort, I’m looking forward to their next album. I will post again about this group, once I've had a chance to let this CD sink in.

Highest recommendation.

   *Ekki vanmeta - Do not underestimate

He put the cap on
and walked home
there is no lane
where he goes

all the energy that surrounds him
is a weapon in the dark
the bird leads him
back again

he lives closer than you think
don't underestimate the distance

rhythm takes him
and leads him home
He puts the cap on
and walks home.

   ~Jófríður and Ásthildur Ákadóttir

Mondays in Iceland - #75

Pascal Pinon, Sundur and the circle…


Magnus Andersen

I’ve been listening to the latest Pascal Pinon album a lot. What follows is not exactly a commercial review; in light of the sensitive nature of this project that would be crass. This is more of a rumination—on the music of course, but also on my circular quest for a fuller understanding of life via Icelandic culture.

By the mid-80s, when I had pretty much hung up my musical “career”, I was trying to make the home and family thing work. One escape from my domestic duties that I did have was a subscription to Andy Warhol's Interview magazine, one of the few periodicals that retained a large format. The articles and photography were mostly about New York art and music scenes, but they also showcased up-and-comers from around the world. One of these blurbs featured the Icelandic band The Sugarcubes: Björk’s breakout vehicle. It was the beginning of a circle. I made a mental note of her and, in 2000, the Weaver and I did manage a short trip to Iceland. She was impressed but I was overwhelmed, especially with the omnipotence of Björk in the shops. So began a cultural odyssey. After quickly getting up to speed on Icelandic music and literature (and with the advent of blogs), I even began to make personal contacts with some of the natives. Now, five trips to Iceland later, I have come to the realization that I am approaching the end of the circle. Nothing ever stays the same, of course, and my contacts in Iceland have, like me, have moved on in their lives. The classic literature of Iceland remains great (and I adore serious Icelandic theater), its modern practitioners are gifted. Icelandic cinema remains very strong. The Icelandic music scene, however, seems to have reached some kind of peak around 2010. Although there are still some acts with international success (Sigur Rós, Of Monsters and Men), the most challenging new work is coming from Jóhann Jóhannsson, as a film music composer (Prisoners, The Theory of Everything, as well as the new Bladerunner).

All of this rambling is a preface to today’s subject: Sundur, the third album by Ásthildur and Jófríður Ákadóttir, twin sisters who call themselves Pascal Pinon. I first saw them in 2009 at Iceland Airwaves and I have always had an affection for the group. Their first release (Pascal Pinon, 2010), recorded when they were 14 years old, was a honest topography of the heart. Twosomeness, their second release (2013), brought the girls out of their bedroom and into the studio. It was, as to be expected, much more polished, while still retaining an intimate nature. Sundur goes far beyond either of these, presenting Jófríður’s lyrics "up-close-and-personal" accompanied by Ásthildur’s sure-handed production. The songs, as would be expected from the album’s title, are about love: lost, broken, or missed, with a bittersweet tinge. I could run this down track-by-track, but Jófríður has graciously already done so. Two of the stand-out cuts, Orange, and Ást, are available at the link. Ást was inspired by the writing of Halldór Laxness (another cultural circle), and is a powerful lament on love: “… the silent symphony created by stroking the strings of the heart… ”

Speaking of circles, Jófríður is featured in a recent Guardian article as being one of Björk's inspirations! Some reviewers have commented on the similarity of the two singers vocal styles. There is something to it but Jófríður is in full command of her gift; her melodies and phrasings are her own, the similarities in diction are shared by thousands of other Icelanders! She is also blessed with a twin sister who has grown musically as well. Ásthildur’s previous contributions were subtle but she is now an equal partner in this fascinating collaboration. Her assured and dynamic keyboard efforts are the equal of her sister’s vocalizations.  I would even put Sundur in the same class as Joni Mitchell’s Blue, not as mature, of course (after all, they still are only 22), yet it is even more intimate than Joni’s masterwork—if such a thing could be possible. As a jaded, card-carrying curmudgeon, it takes a lot to crack my frozen attitudes. Pascal Pinon, those wyrd sisters from the North Country, not only thawed my resistance, they positively melted me.

Highest recommendation.