Perhaps the most compelling example of the kind of disorientation that border states can engender came in the concert given by Polish ensemble Spółdzielnia Muzyczna, appropriately titled ‘The Borders of Identity’. Here, more than anywhere else during AFEKT 2023, was a concert where none of the five works on the programme seemed to have any strong connection or similarity to the others. (If, as i previously posited, concerts can be ‘nations’ within the music world, can compositions be ‘towns’ and ‘cities’?) Ville Raasakka’s Vanishing Point explored a mix of contemplative and hyperactive gestures, while in Hagalaz, Dobromiła Jaskot went from dronal insistence through an intensely loud solo clarinet sequence into a place of real uncertainty, finally arriving in a bright, beautiful space of floating embellishment.
Helena Tulve’s Rimlands was given an outstanding performance, revealing with startling clarity the composer’s fondness for textures rippling with life out of which hugely emotive lyrical lines emerge. The levels of extremes heard here were extraordinary: an absolutely vast dynamic and emotional range, from the smallest, ostensibly timid, half-apology of an idea to crashing overloads of raw stuff, in the process transforming ‘song’ into a strangely alien kind of glistening call. The effect was like a wildly exotic bird’s display ritual, fantastical and exuberant.
Most incredible of all was the final work on the programme, Georges Aperghis’ Trio. Organised cascades, torrents and fireworks created a superabundance of energy – fiery, playful, mischievous, raucous – yet in the midst of all this Aperghis almost ridiculously also allowed a moment for gentle introspection. Not for long: the ensemble were like lionesses toying with their prey, taking turns to let rip, in the process unleashing (from clarinettist Tomasz Sowa) the most fearless fortississimo my ears have ever experienced. Here was music that transcended all notion of borders, its outlandish narrative, always convincing and coherent, giving the impression of falling through a sequence of parallel musical multiverses.
AFEKT 2023 concluded by taking its theme literally, travelling to the border city of Narva. At first I was surprised that the festival made no provision for those who wanted to attend. But in hindsight, being forced to organise this independently – which, for me, involved staying the night in Narva because there was no way to travel back to Tallinn in the late evening – vividly highlighted the extreme aspect of borders: easy to reach but, due to their remoteness, sometimes not so easy to return from. And Narva did feel remote: while i was there i realised my nearest friends were either three hours to the west back in Tallinn, or three hours to the east in St Petersburg. Furthermore in some ways it was as if i had already crossed the border: Narva didn’t seem like an Estonian outpost but a Russian one; everyone i interacted with spoke Russian, and everything about the place looked and felt much more like a grey, decaying Soviet town than a vibrant, thriving European city. Obviously, to be in Narva at the present time, with Russia persisting in its war of aggression against Ukraine, only highlighted how tense, vulnerable and perilous borders can be. It felt slightly surreal to stand by the edge of the Narva river, looking out from the city’s castle across the narrow stretch of water standing between the two countries, toward some fisherman on the opposite site, the looming edifice of Ivangorod Fortress, and the streets and houses beyond. One day, i really hope it’ll be possible to cross that border again.
The main concert in Narva (there were two, the latter an excellent electronic performance by Sander Saarmets) was essentially a recital by flautist Monika Matthiesen, in conjunction with composers Ülo Krigul and Saarmets. It was a return to the kind of concert i described previously, exploring works with strong common characteristics. Indeed, while it included six pieces, in many respects the concert felt like one very long composition, passing through discrete, differentiated phases. Matthiesen acted like a travelling minstrel in Mart Siimer’s Pöörlev gloobus, initially heard but not seen, eventually appearing from stage right, performing playful minimalistic phrases. In her own piece Pesa [Nest – possibly related to Pesas, here piece premièred earlier in the festival], Matthiesen transformed into a shaman-like figure, immersed in elusive breaths, half-heard wisps and equally evanescent curling melodic shapes, seemingly made of vapour. Saarmets’ Killud was like a continuation of this, elusive and abstract but nonetheless lyrical, expanded in Krigul’s streeeech (in its third iteration, featuring bass guitar, and far fewer ‘e’s than the original version) where a sense of inner power was greatly increased in music that was as gorgeous as it was awesome. Kaija Saariaho’s NoaNoa returned to a shamanistic world, filled with tantalising whispers, before the concert concluded with Jüri Reinvere’s a.e.g., a gaseous, spatialised epilogue where Matthiesen and a chorus of imaginary flutes slowly drifted to a place beyond borders, into the infinite.
To give a performance like this, weaving a coherent narrative celebrating shared musical aspects of diverse composers, was a poignant and meaningful thing to be doing so close to the Russian border. Returning to the festival theme again, it raised a further, final question: can music bridge borders, and help to unite what has been divided? Obviously, only people can do what is necessary to make borders transparent and open, rather than opaque walls of exclusion and distrust. Yet on numerous occasions during AFEKT 2023, the music served to demonstrate not only the complexity of the border state, but also the beauty, the benefits and above all the vital importance of cross-border dialogue and unity.
