Part I: Contemporary Arctic music that will knock your socks off!
Part 1 of 3: Metamodern Arctic Ethno-folk from Russia and Sápmi
Chances are that you are unfamiliar with contemporary Arctic music. In that case, prepare to have your mind blown! This three-part series will attempt to provide insight into an alternative regional music scene that goes way beyond being simply music. The music covered here breaks all pretence of genre and intentionally veers into cultural representation as a performance. It playfully experiments with cultural expression and juxtaposes often violent and depressing history with highly modern notions of identity, resilience, and hope.
It should be noted that this is in no way an attempt to catalogue Arctic music broadly, but rather to collate artists that fit within this specific (non?)-classification and, in turn, also share some of my favourites.
There is no such thing as Arctic music, but there is (I would argue) a commonality within a certain musical movement that can be found throughout the Arctic region. Below, I have chosen to term this type of musical expression as Arctic Ethno-Folk, a postmodern experimentation with music that blurs boundaries regarding genre, instrumentation, visual presentation, and linguistic representation.
The Arctic Region
There are several ways to define the Arctic region. Geographically, it is defined as being 66° north of the Equator, neighboured by the subarctic in the approximate range of 50°N and 70°N latitude. Other definitions are botanical, climatological, or marine-based. According to Ellen Øseth at the Norwegian Polar Institute, the: “definition of what the Arctic is depends on what the definition is to be used for.” Further definitions can be national or political, but what you are most likely to encounter within the Arctic itself, in my experience, is a cultural definition. With that said, the definition given below is my own, and I use it to make a point about some exciting music.
Depending on the definition, the Arctic consists of regions within eight different nation-states. These nation-states are Canada, Denmark, Finland, the Russian Federation, Iceland, Norway, Sweden, and the United States. These are also the member states that make up the Arctic Council. As most of these nation-states extend far below the 66° parallel, it quickly becomes debatable what constitutes “Arctic” in terms of national identity. Within this region, covering roughly 5.4 mil. square miles or 14.5 million square kilometres, there can be found 4 million people. Depending on the classification, there are in the region of 40–90 indigenous languages spoken within the Arctic, many of which are designated to be endangered and close to extinction. In the region, there are about 40 indigenous ethnic groups and several what would be seen as non-indigenous groups, such as the Faroese and the Icelandic.
In fairness, the Arctic consists of the following regions within the eight mentioned nation-states: Alaska for the US. Yukon, Northwest Territories, and Nunavut in Canada. Greenland and the Faroe Islands in the Kingdom of Denmark. Iceland. Northern Ostrobothnia, Kainuu, and Lappi in Finland. Nordland, Troms, Finnmark, Svalbard and Jan Mayen in Norway. Västerbotten, Norrbotten and Lappland in Sweden. And Murmansk, Siberia, Nenets Okrug, and Novaya Zemlya in the Russian Federation.
Metamodern Arctic Ethno-Folk?
With over 4 million people living within the Arctic region, there is no lack of bands or music to pick from if one were to produce a broad overview of Arctic music. The vast majority of Arctic music likely belongs to conventional classifications that one would find all around the world: classical, pop, rock, electronic, and singer-songwriter. It is not good or bad; it is…for lack of a better word, music. There exists, however, within the Arctic, a musical movement that leans heavily into the history, culture, and environment of the region (this is true for several regions around the world, but here the focus is on the Arctic).
Not too long ago, this kind of music would fall under umbrella categories such as alternative or, rather crassly, World Music. However, what we are concerned with here is never any definable genre or subset of genre but straddles musical definitions. Musically, in terms of what we might call genre, there is rarely much commonality between the bands and songs and bands presented. If anything, a core unifying feature of this type of music is that it somehow manages to evade simple categorisation. This is a regional musical movement rooted in folk music but not in the conventional sense that one might think of folk music. We find ourselves within the murky definitional spheres of postmodern folk, Pagan Folk, Pagan Doom-Folk, Folk metal, Neofolk, Neoviking, Folkcore, Folk noir, Apocalyptic Folk, Dark Folk, or, perhaps most fittingly, if we are to label it with something; regional Ethno-Folk.
It is a movement grounded in locales, languages, histories, and cultures. On some level, it is performed cultural representation that relies on visual mediums such as music videos on the internet or live performances (hence all the videos). Music videos especially help convey messages through dresses or costumes, locations, and, in some cases, with the help of subtitles, as this type of music is rarely performed in widely spoken languages. It is also often a political movement. In some cases, the politics are very obvious, but in other cases, the political tendrils are more subdued and might need pointing out.
If the paradigm of postmodernity suggests a period that follows modernity but is characterised by a critical and sceptical attitude toward the grand narratives and absolute truths of the modern era–as put forward by thinkers such as Lyotard, Foucault, Derrida, Barthes, and Baudrillard–postmodern music displays similar thematic aspects. A key aspect of postmodernism, and the central recurring argument within the works of these mentioned thinkers, is modernity’s fragmentation and pluralism that emphasises diversity and multiplicity of perspectives and rejection of grand narratives that aim to explain everything through a single dominant narrative–coupled with a distrust of metanarratives. This is also a perspective that intentionally blurs boundaries between disciplines, genres, and categories, resulting in hybrid forms of art and thought that challenge conventional categories, often with subversive irony and playfulness that questions established norms and conventions, often through critical deconstruction. Postmodern music should or could be an inclusive–and perhaps more acceptable–modern take on different cultural, ethnic, historical, and social viewpoints.
However, Postmodern music (if there is even such a thing) often tends to result in ironic, hyperbolic, or even nihilistic art. Shrugging at the state of the world. The music dealt with here is anything but. It is not music produced for a mass market; in fact, it likely has minimal appeal on the world stage. Common for these bands is an extreme honesty in insistence on cultural and local representation. This is, to me, what makes them so appealing and engaging. There is a term for cultural developments that move beyond postmodernism through the use of postmodernism itself–Metamodernism. Metamodernism takes postmodernist and premodern (indigenous and cultural) sensibilities and slams them together to produce something akin to post-postmodernism. This is what is on display here; it is fluid in terms of styles, genres, and musical approaches–liberal use of techniques such as throat-singing, rap, beatboxing, and voice modulation (both electronic and a capella) mixed with local traditional instruments. At the same time, we see a blurring of time, as these bands often rely heavily on traditional folk music or, at times, what is best described as faux-traditional styles of music that might not ever have existed.
Russia
This all might sound confusing, but I promise you that it will all make sense after you have watched and listened to the bands I am about to introduce. Let’s start with Otyken from Siberia:
Otyken is, without a doubt, my favourite Russian band. The band comprises Chulyms, Kets, Selkups, Khakases, and Dolgans, all indigenous peoples of Siberia. initially started as a way to preserve Chulym (or Chulym Tatar) folklore, traditions, and songs nearing extinction. There is not much I can say to describe the band that is not displayed in their music videos.The metamodernism, if we’re going to call it that, is cranked to eleven. We are not in doubt of the setting, and the clothing the band wears instantly signals a particular tone. The traditional aspects take centre stage initially, but the lines between the past and now are quickly blurred as drums and throat-singing merge with electric keyboard and guitar. Otyken are intentionally playing with the performance of culture and history. Their live performances further accentuate this. This intentionality of pulling traditional instruments and techniques into a modern setting is similarly found in the Wagakki Band from Japan, the Mongolian band The Hu (who are also worth a listen), or the Taiwanese folk-metal band NiNi Music.
Another Russian act that intentionally subverts expectation in this manner is (now defunct) Folkbeat. The video above (from Russia’s X-Factor) is a perfect two-minute illustration of the traditional slowly fading into the modern (note the shift at the one-minute point). Rather, it cleverly isn’t at all. The traditional never gives way to the modern but is carried along and transformed into something new and unexpected. The song is “На улице дождик” (It is raining outside), a well-known traditional Russian folk song that the studio audience will no doubt be familiar with. Look out for the facial expressions and body language of both the audience and the judges. Again, the band is toying with the blurring of how the cultural and historical can be remixed with the modern.
Sometimes, this metamodernist musical movement is political in a way that can escape non-native audiences. Remixing a beloved national folk song such as “На улице дождик” can be a dicey move. While it is no Pussy Riot, it is certainly bold and sure to make heads turn. Similarly, but more obvious, Otyken’s performance of cultural symbolism is also very much a clear and intentional statement of ethnic expression from a minority group that is struggling with cultural survival.
Sápmi
This type of subversive political statement-making is often on display in indigenous music, and in music from regions of the world where local autonomy is contested (for example in Catalan or Basque patriotic hymns). Within the Arctic, the Sámi stand out for their unique cultural traits and for having their indigenous homeland intersected by four national borders (those of Sweden, Norway, Finland, and Russia). Culturally, historically, linguistically, and geographically, the Sámi have faced immense discrimination from each of the national states where they live. This discrimination is something that continues to this day. Consider the sámi joik:
The joik (see more about joik here) is a unique cultural expression for the Sámi. As you can tell from Berit Margrethe Oskal’s rendition of Eamifámut above, joiking is a form of highly melodic chanting that tends to be performed without lyrics. Joiks are deeply personal or spiritual and are generally dedicated to people, animals, or places. Joiks have, through the ages, been a battleground for cultural domination between local peoples and encroaching national states. Joiking was made illegal and condemned as sinful during the Christianization of the Sámi, seeing it denounced as magic spells, devil worship, and part of pagan or shamanistic ritualism. This rejection is not found only in history books, as it is still banned in some churches [ref. in Norwegian] in the same manner that traditional Inuit drumming has recently been denied access to Greenlandic churches [ref. in Danish]. Fortunately, joiking has been so strongly rooted in Sámi culture that it has survived as an art and cultural expression.
Contemporary joiking is not an exercise in reaching far into the past for inspiration, on drawing on some long-lost cultural artefact. Joiking is perhaps one of the oldest continuous European musical traditions, but as culture inevitably will do, joiking has been adapted to fit the times. A key contributor to modern joiking is undoubtedly Mari Boine, who has been active since the mid-80s and is instrumental in fusing traditional joiking with modern jazz and rock. Her work is also highly political and calls out racism and oppression (her Oppskrift for Herrefolk, for example, sung in Norwegian, is a raw and emotional take on cultural injustices). Another is Johan Anders Bær, who is among the forerunners in taking the joik to new modern forms and other musical genres while at the same time keeping the distinctive expression of the joik (you need to hear the excellent Garra duoddarat, see the video above). Through the work of artists such as Mari Boine and Johan Anders Bær, we also get acts such as the similarly modern Adjágas and the haunting work of contemporary Angelit.
What drew me to Sámi contemporary music was the phenomenal early work of Sofia Jannok. Especially her rendition of the joik Irene (above). It is such a vibrant and joyful expression of culture while at the same time also being a poignant political act in and of itself. How anyone could even consider such melodic joy anything other than a testament to life and have it be banned from religious life is beyond me.
Jannok’s work is laced with cultural pride, activism, and representation. Of course, songs like This is My Land demarcate her intentions, but the fact that she has consistently produced work that stays true to herself and her culture is quite a feat.
Similarly, Wimme Saari is an artist who embodies the political aspect of a possible metamodernist movement. Agálaš johtin (below) is an example of music that blurs the lines between not only genre–but the medium itself. The joiking is accompanied by classical instruments, while the audience is confronted with a projection of old films and an array of traditionally dressed Sámi–as if to say, “We are here too, look at us!” It is old and new simultaneously; it is not postmodern since it is entirely personal and honest…as a performance, it goes beyond postmodernism into the same metamodernist approach utilised by Otyken.
Have a seat and give Wimme five minutes of your time. You’ll get it. His joiking will resonate in your body, and even if you don’t know any of the history of the Finnish Sámi, you will instinctively understand what he is getting at. It is frankly rather exceptional.
All these acts, Mari Boine, Johan Anders Bær, Wimme Saari, Adjágas, Sofia Jannok, and many more, have all paved the way for contemporary modern joiking. So what does modern joiking look and sound like as a new generation has moved in? Here is where it gets interesting.
To me, two acts personify what is going on. One is Jon Henrik Fjällgren (who will not be covered here but who you should check out), and the other is Ella Marie Hætta Isaksen.
Here is Ella Marie (below) on Norwegian national television (on the show Sternekamp, or “Starfight”). Several things are going on in this video that might not be obvious to the casual watcher. She is just off winning the Liet International music contest and formed the band Isák. Ella Marie is, of course, dressed in Sámi clothing, and she is performing a modernised version of a joik by none other than Mari Boine. The joik is Mari Boine’s Máze from 1994.
Máze is where joiking was banned from being performed in church as recently as 2014. On the far left of the judges’ panel is Johan Anders Bær (from the video above), nodding knowingly as if to say, “I see what you are doing.” It is all about as subtle as a reindeer kick to the head.
There is, of course, a fantastic ending to this. A couple of episodes later, Ella Marie wins the competition and performs the joik Ozan (below) by Adjágas. It’s just an excellent performance all around and illustrates how culture can morph itself into something new while at the same time retaining those aspects that have made it enduring. In these two performances, Ella Marie typifies what I am getting at.
Not only does she draw on the cultural expression of the joik, she does so on Norwegian national television via three of the most prominent sámi musical acts–but she modernises it, makes it her own, and wins.
These have been examples of contemporary music from the eastern part of the Arctic, from Siberia and Sápmi. I have focused on a musical movement that can be hard to define and categorise, opting for an umbrella nomenclature of “Metamodern Arctic Ethno-Folk.” This encompasses music that draws heavily on traditional folk music and is rooted in local customs, traditions, and stories. It is not a movement that aims to look to the past for forgotten cultural artefacts but instead attempts to carry existing traditions into the future. It is an explicit representation and artistic performance. In the eastern part of the Arctic, this is highly entrenched within the indigenous communities of the Siberian and Sámi minorities. As we will see, this same indigenous focus is valid for the western part of the Arctic (from Greenland to Alaska). However, there is a middle part of the Arctic where no indigenous peoples, an area dominated by water. This is where Part II will pick up in Coastal Norway, the Faroe Islands, and Iceland.
