Songs in the Refrigerator: An Interview with Ólöf Arnalds
Ólöf Arnalds is a multi-instrumentalist and singer-songwriter from Reykjavík. Known for her distinctive voice and ethereal melodies, she has largely defined contemporary Icelandic folk music. She is also a cofounder of Mengi, a concert venue and art space in Reykjavík. Visit her website at http://olofarnalds.com/.
In the interview below, Ólöf discusses her songwriting process, her musical upbringing and the inspiration behind her forthcoming album.
How did music come into your life?
I went to music school when I was six and started learning violin when I was eight. When I was fourteen, I taught myself guitar by playing the Nirvana Unplugged record the whole way through. But I also listened to a lot of classical music. My parents loved classical music, so it was mostly classical music in my home, with very few exceptions — like the Beatles and Abba.
I also trained in classical singing as a teenager. But I didn’t start writing songs seriously until I was in my mid-twenties. So I’m a bit of a late bloomer as a songwriter.
What other instruments do you play?
I have a small Peruvian instrument called a charango, which I play in my own style and tuning. Then I have a koto — a Japanese harp — that I play really badly, but I like it still. And I play a bit of piano.
What led you to write your own songs?
It was just absolute need. I can’t really remember making a decision about it. I was playing guitar at parties with my friends, making up songs as I went, and it gradually developed from there.
Then I chose music as a career. Now, however, I’m also working as a copywriter. I felt like trying something new, after ten years of only music.
What is your songwriting process?
A lot of my music is written in my head before I ever touch the instrument. Usually, when I do start playing, I’m manifesting an idea that I already had in my mind. So I’m constantly writing in my mind.
Very often, the music comes from having a good conversation with someone. After that conversation, the melodies start flowing. The melodies come first, then the chords, and then the words.
All the songs on your first album, Við og Við, were in Icelandic. Gradually, you started writing in English until your latest album, Palme, was all in English. What inspired that shift?
When I started writing in English I was playing around 150 shows per year, and maybe one of them would be in Iceland — so I just wanted to connect more with my audiences. But the English language has always been very close to me because my mother was born and raised in London. I don’t have a British accent, though. She didn’t manage to give me that.
My new record — which is almost done — is going to be just in Icelandic again. I’ve come full circle.
Is there anything in particular that inspired the new record?
It’s about the beauty of everyday life and how important it is to be connected with the small world.
Who are you listening to these days?
I’m listening to a lot of Leon Bridges at the moment. It’s very soulful music and really well cut.
My partner teaches 20th century musical history in the art academy, so lately we’ve also been listening to a lot experimental and alternative music.
Can you describe your relationship with the broader arts and music scene in Iceland?
I’m especially well connected with people my generation or older. I might not be totally in on everything that’s brand new, but there’s a support network that surrounds everyone who’s in music, and people are always helping each other out. It’s a very altruistic community.
Reykjavík is about as big as Athens when ancient Athens was in bloom, so we’ve reached the same size as the cradle of Western civilization.
In 2013, you helped found Mengi, an avant-garde arts space and concert venue in Reykjavík. How did Mengi come about?
My partner, Skúli Sverrisson, had just returned to Iceland after living in New York for 25 years, and he and his friend Bjarni and I were looking to create something new in the arts scene. Mengi started out only as a record label, but then I found the perfect venue space.
I have a strange interest in real estate. I’m always looking at listings.
That’s how you found the space?
Yes. It’s a hobby of mine.
Your website describes your voice as “otherworldly,” and Björk has called it “somewhere between a child’s and an old woman’s.” How do you relate to your own voice?
I sometimes find it hard to listen back to my own music, because I find my voice a little bit strange. But the way I connect with it when I’m singing is very strong. If my voice were a person, I would say we have a very good friendship.
Did you ever hesitate to sing?
No. When I was a kid, whenever guests came to my parents’ house, I would stand up on a chair and sing for them. It’s in my nature to sing and to perform. It’s a part of me.
What feeds your songwriting?
I hear music everywhere, you know. Just the sounds from the refrigerator can inspire a song. I have a fascination for mechanical sounds — for fans and refrigerators and things like that. I love listening to the overtones.
Then I have friends who are visual artists and they’re really inspiring. When I was in the art academy, I didn’t hang out with the musicians. I hung out with the visual artists. I just felt I related more to them.
What’s in store for you in the next year?
When my album comes out, I’m going to go back on the road. In the meantime, I’m leading an everyday life — going to the office, working, writing. So it will be a change. I miss touring, so once I start touring again I’m going to be happier. I have to mix the day-to-day work and the music.
