BY STEPHANIE ESLAKE
At the Sydney Opera House, there’s a series of events called Utzon Music. And its striking program is curated to bring the world’s foremost classical musicians into Australia, so they can show you some of the greatest sounds the world is listening to.
This year sees Welsh harpist Catrin Finch, Senegalese kora virtuoso Sekou Keita, and the Paris-based Van Kuijk Quartet venturing into the stunning and intimate space.
But another one of the series’ notable musicians is Maarja Nuut, who hails from Estonia and — as the opera house itself explains — mixes “haunting siren-style vocals, violin, and electronics [for folk creations that] hark to the dreamy forests and dark lakes of her Baltic homeland”.
This description is one that doesn’t quite fit into what Maarja would call a “genre box”. So, when the vocalist-violinist draws from folk and modern influences to create artistic works that fall outside the scope of a traditional genre, where does this leave her music? Where does her sound come from, and what should audiences make of it?
We asked her.
Hello Maarja, thank you for taking part in our interview together. How are you feeling about performing at the Sydney Opera House?
I’m looking forward to my return to Sydney, and of course feel very honoured to play there. But I also must add that, as a live artist, every performance is equally important to me — be it in front of 10 or a thousand people.
For these upcoming Australian dates, I will return to my earlier solo material, rework it slightly, and combine with some new ideas — so that makes me even more excited.
You focus on ancient folk traditions to make your music, which is very beautiful. What is it about folk music that you think continues to captivate listeners of today, so many centuries on?
To be honest, my current focus as an artist is not on ancient folk traditions or re-working them — but it’s true that it has played a huge role in my artistic path and will remain a great source of inspiration.
I do not think that folk music or any style in itself is necessarily captivating. There has to be something that resonates with the listener and, more importantly, with the artist. What do I believe in and want to transmit as a performer? A certain style consists of different expressional qualities, and is after all just a tool to convey artist’s vision.
I was drawn to traditional music and archival sources because of the rich and such nuanced sound. Coming from an academic background, then spending seven months in New Dehli exploring the musical language of Hindustani music, really opened my ears. So when returning to Estonia about 13 years ago, I got immediately fascinated by the microtonal scales, ever-changing repetitive rhythmical patterns, and sound texture. I wanted to understand that language and then make it into my own.
What often touches me are the inimitable meaningful emotions that lay hidden beneath metaphors within the lyrics and stories. The latter are often filled with great fantasy, yet always talk about very human problems, and the human nature hasn’t changed much in time. So passing on those old songs can help us to make sense of the world and give meaning.
In a musical sense, what do you think makes a fantastic “modernisation” of such music?
This is a very difficult question. I’m afraid there’s no such recipe for a great modernisation — at least, not for me. Usually when hearing music, and recognising straightforward elements from here or there, it sounds rather boring to me. It’s about the mystery.
In a way, it’s impossible to create anything absolutely new — but it’s about how the different elements are combined, and the creator’s personal message and articulation.
How does music help you connect to your cultural heritage?
It carries the thoughts, values, and worldview of past generations. That helps me to understand: Where do I come from? Why do I think or feel about some things in a certain way? And therefore helps me find my own place in today’s world, and how to contribute to making this world a little better place.
What are some of the stories you are singing about through your songs?
The Sad Songster:
he who hears me sing
will think all is well
he will believe that my days are filled with joy.
i sing through my sorrows
i sing through my mourning heart.
tears stream from my eyes to my chest
from my chest to my heart
from my heart to my knees
from my knees to my feet
from my feet to my toes
from my toes they flow to the ground.
then the village herd will get to drink
the parish foals will get to drink
the manor horses will get to drink.
It’s a beautiful song that carries the idea that there is always light at the end.
Why is it important to you to share this particular music with the whole world, as you have so impressively through your tours?
There is no other reason than I simply love sharing it, as it is with the other creative projects I’m involved and touring with.
As a solo performer, you’ve been described with language such as ‘hypnotic’ and ‘compelling’. How would you describe your own experience of your performances?
Something that seems to always come with me is that I very much try to take care of being in the presence – that is what drives me. The freedom of interpretation comes from the feeling of standing on the borderline, and flirting with the idea of flipping towards one or another direction and creating tension through that. To be able to do that, I have to be ‘here and now’.
You’ve performed in events in the classical, jazz, folk, and cultural music scenes. I’d therefore like to ask you what you think about genre. Working through so many genres, and resonating with so many audiences, do you think we could simply do without the idea of “genre” altogether?
I really try not to think about it, as most of the time it feels frustrating and restraining.
Since childhood, I never understood the need of categorising music in little ‘genre boxes’. I know it makes it easier to describe and sell it, but I deeply doubt it helps anyone to understand the music.
So yes, in my idealistic world, we could do without the idea of ‘genre’ altogether, and focus more on being open-minded and curious to learn about things we at first don’t quite understand!
Is there anything else you’d like to add before we see you in Australia?
I wish everyone strength and wisdom to take better care of the environment around us and each other, every single day. And very much looking forward to meet Sydney people in August!
See Maarja Nuut at 3pm on August 16 in the Utzon Room, Sydney Opera House.
Image supplied.
