Ólöf Arnalds: The Interview That Almost Wasn’t
If time were non-existent, my tardiness on dishing this particularly special blog would be acceptable. However, being two or so months late I sincerely apologize to you, the reader and to Ólöf. Part of me however does not want to part with the memories of that evening. Simply because the night itself was one I shall not forget. A simple night with delicate music and soulful conversation. A night, despite my hesitation, that simply deserves to be shared.Upon superficial observation it would seem that Ólöf Arnalds first performance at The Static Gallery, Liverpool, was a colossal flop with about twenty or so people attending and at least five of that twenty being the support. Yes, figures would argue that this was to be a disastrous show. A disastrous show which grew to be one of the most simple, harmless and natural of performances I've had the pleasure to witness.
After an uphill struggle to arrange an interview with Ólöf and painfully trying to find and talk to the right people, I fell hopelessly defeated and interviewless. Despite the severity of my disappointment, I braved the defeat, slapped on my make-up and attended the event. Fortune however was on my side and just as I headed for the exit of The Static Gallery bewildered and dramatically emotional, a sweetly disjointed Icelandic voice stopped us and inquired about the dictor-phone I was holding in my hand. We took a seat. The red light of the dictor-phone switched on. The interview began.
Christian: So how has the tour been so far?
Ólöf: it’s the last bit of touring that I’m doing over a stretch of 18 months. On and off the road. I'm pretty much on my last legs. I started touring this record last fall, but before that, the whole year before that I was touring a lot and playing tiny shows. Especially in America. I went to New York a lot and played a lot of tiny venues. I plan to move to New York?
C: Instead of?
Ó: Iceland.
C: Why the change?
Ó: I think living in Iceland has its benefits but there is a limit to personal growth there. It’s a small place and has a lot of benefits and it’s a great, it has a vibrant scene. But I also feel that it is difficult when you’re an artist and when you make new work and you’re reinventing your work and reinventing yourself and it’s sort of difficult to do that around people you went to playschool with. You know?
You feel like you are being watched in a way. That's not very good for an artist. It's hard to grow.
C: So do you think living in Iceland has placed any limitations on your growth as an artist?
Ó: I think it’s sort of tricky because the benefit of being raised in Iceland is that you don't have the cultural burden of some great people who have came before you. A lot of instruments only came to be recognized in the early twentieth century. So there is no folk tradition. There's an oral tradition. We are not bound by anything that is Icelandic. In a way you have the freedom to create who you want to be. But then at the same time I feel that I want to distinguish between myself as an artist and my nationality.
C: You don't wasn’t the burden of creating an Icelandic sound for example.
Ó: Yeah, because I think the more important artists that come from Iceland, they have done a tremendous amount of work. They have gone through tremendous artistic searches; they are creating out of a narrow minded society. Small towns. And then they make something that is very unique. Unique to themselves and then the press reports "Oh this is typically Icelandic", you know! In a way that's sort of devalues the voice of the artist.
Sometimes I feel that Icelanders get easy access to press and it’s easy for them. I think sometimes, what if I was doing exactly what I'm doing now but I came from, let’s say, Oklahoma.
C: But I guess being Icelandic can be seen as an advantage to a music career?
Ó: Yeah! Of course. I would be a hypocrite if i would deny that my nationality has been a selling point in some ways because I'm very tightly linked to some important art. But I really don't feel that my voice or what I do has anything to do with here I'm from.
C: So you worked with Björk on the track Surrender, how was that?
Ó: Well it came about very organically because we had been friends for a couple of years. We met through some acquaintances and when I was mixing my records I brought some rough mixes to her, you know, to get a third ear. She came up with an idea for a counterpart. She was like "I have this idea, I'll just record it and I'll send it to you. Use it if you wasn’t, cut it, whatever". I just decided to leave her contribution completely unedited because, well, you just don't edit Björk.
C: My knowledge of Icelandic artists is very limited, as in yourself, Björk, Emiliana Torrini, not that we won't to cast you all into one category, but say you were to give an outsider an introduction to old or new Icelandic music, who would you recommend?
Ó: There is is this band Retro Stefson. They're a very young band. Very enthusiastic. It’s an interesting band. They're beautiful. The lead singer, Manuel Stefánsson, he's beautiful. He's Fabulous. He's very young, very talented, beautiful voice, impulsive singer. Not calculated in the way he sings. Also, despite his young age, he is able to share the stage with everyone around him. It’s not about him. He has this generosity in his performance. I see him perform and I think 'Yes! This is something worth seeing.
C: So apart from New York, what next for you Ólöf?
Ó: Well I have thirty songs written that aren't recorded. I want to record them all and play them. I'm playing the Great Escape festival too.
As the interview came to end, and with the red light turned off and dictor-phone respectfully put away, the conversation continued to flow just as the wine continued to be drunk. Conversations of music, sexuality, life, morality and sanity came as natural to the three of us as singing did for Olof. A remarkable woman. A remarkable talent. A remarkable evening.