Composer Weekend with Lisa Streich

Lisa Streich’s original scores are like maps of sound. The music is sometimes reminiscent of the aural worlds of nature or the city, and the composition emerges as a “sound conductor”. She sees this as sculpting with an orchestra or ensemble, and a sort of choreography emerges from the sound, inviting not only listeners, but viewers as well. She has gained more and more international attention.

In Segel (Sail), the music surges forth, whispering and breathing, occasionally whipping about – are these lines hitting a mast? In Flügel (Wings), Streich imagined the orchestra as a being with bodies in the middle and wings at the sides. How does she make it float and fly? Ishjärta (Ice Heart) paints a picture of the blood-filled warmth of a heart on one side, and its insulation within a shroud on the other.

The Royal Stockholm Philharmonic Orchestra is led by Israeli conductor Ilan Volkov and the festival opening also features a world premiere: a newly composed trumpet concerto with Italian-Hungarian Lucas Lipari-Mayer performing the solo part. Among others, he studied under Håkan Hardenberger and has been a member of French contemporary music specialists Ensemble Intercontemporain since 2018. 

“I feel that music has the ability to capture the truth. And I can experience the truth with Gustav Mahler,” says Lisa Streich who also included Blumine by Mahler – this beautiful andante movement is from the final version of his Symphony No. 1. “Music is the only thing that allows me to feel the truth of another human being,” says Streich.

Norrköping Symphony Orchestra traditionally participates in the festivals held at Konserthuset. The orchestra is led by Swiss-Austrian Elena Schwartz and the highly acclaimed Jacob Kellerman is the guitar soloist. The guitar concerto Kellermann tackles is certainly not conventional. Augenlider, Eyelids, is composed for arranged guitar and orchestra, and this music is a low-key, whispering and sparsely snapping. It includes a hairclip, an egg slicer and water.

Lisa Streich’s imagination revolves around visual and physical elements. When she composed Mantel (Cloak) for two percussionists and strings, she imagined the ensemble like a body: the strings as the head, the percussionists as the skeleton. The piece Himmel (Heaven) is like a musical painting of the changing skies overhead. She paints a world with light brush strokes, in which tones and sounds add colour.  

In Händeküssen (Hand Kisses), Streich was inspired by a passage in a conversation book by Beethoven, who was deaf. “Kissing a hand is not a good thing,” he wrote. The music is a dreamt dance, and it is offered with kisses on the hand. But how does dancing look if one is deaf? The orchestra is split in two, representing the right and left foot, while the listener is inside the deaf ear canal. 

Lisa Streich’s original scores are like maps of sound. The music is sometimes reminiscent of the aural worlds of nature or the city, and the composition emerges as a “sound conductor”. She sees this as sculpting with an orchestra or ensemble, and a sort of choreography emerges from the sound, inviting not only listeners, but viewers as well. She has gained more and more international attention.

Swedish composer Lisa Streich has garnered more and more international acclaim in recent years. At Composer Weekend 2024, she finally gets a major presentation in Sweden. Lisa Streich’s original scores are like maps of sound, and it is often as if she is “directing” the sound. She sees this as sculpting with an orchestra or ensemble, and a sort of choreography emerges from the sound, inviting not only listeners, but viewers as well.

In Segel (Sail), the music surges forth, whispering and breathing, occasionally whipping about – are these lines hitting a mast? In Flügel (Wings), Streich imagined the orchestra as a being with bodies in the middle and wings at the sides. How does she make it float and fly? Ishjärta (Ice Heart) paints a picture of the blood-filled warmth of a heart on one side, and its insulation within a shroud on the other.

The Royal Stockholm Philharmonic Orchestra is led by Israeli conductor Ilan Volkov and the festival opening also features a world premiere: a newly composed trumpet concerto with Italian-Hungarian Lucas Lipari-Mayer performing the solo part. Among others, he studied under Håkan Hardenberger and has been a member of French contemporary music specialists Ensemble Intercontemporain since 2018. 

“I feel that music has the ability to capture the truth. And I can experience the truth with Gustav Mahler,” says Lisa Streich who also included Blumine by Mahler – this beautiful andante movement is from the final version of his Symphony No. 1. “Music is the only thing that allows me to feel the truth of another human being,” says Streich

Lisa Streich’s fascination with motorized instruments manifests at Composer Weekend 2024. Here, we welcome KammarsensembleN, led by Christian Karlsen. However, the beginning is dream-like, quiet and cautious, with Klara Hellqvist’s solo violin in the piece Falter (Butterfly). Fingers dancing across the neck of the violin produce mainly fragile wisps of sound.

Zucker (Sugar) and Safran (Saffron) are both pieces with motorized components. “Motors have weight for me,” says Lisa Streich. “Just like other people go wild with sweets, I love to ‘consume’ a dose of motors. Man against machine. Contrary to conventional wisdom, especially in the twentieth century, one might now get the impression that machines are more human than humans,” says Streich. In both Zucker and Safran, little engines are mounted to the instruments, for example with strips that whip against the strings. 

What passed through the ears of Frances of Rome in the fifteenth century? This was the starting point for Lisa Streich in Francesca. “Maybe we have an idea about how a choir of cherubs sounds. That might often be idealised, heavenly and beautiful. When I saw Antoniazzo Romano’s frescoes of Saint Francis in the Monastery of Tor de’ Specchi in Rome, I wanted to hear what he heard on his deathbed and beyond.” The result sounds angular, not quite heavenly per se, but with its own marvellous beauty.