Sinikka Langeland
WInd And Sun

Sinikka Langeland vocals, kantele, Jew’s harp
Mathias Eick trumpet
Trygve Seim tenor and soprano saxophones
Mats Eilertsen double bass
Thomas Strønen drums
Recorded June 2022 at Rainbow Studio, Oslo
Engineer: Martin Abrahamsen
Mixed at Bavaria Musikstudios, Munich
by Sinikka Langeland, Guido Gorna, and Michael Hinreiner
Cover photo: Dag Alveng
Produced by Guido Gorna
Release date: September 15, 2023

It walks and walks
and all the dead are with us
the dead too walk and walk
in us
–Jon Fosse

Sinikka Langeland has given breath to lungs far beyond the inner sanctum of the body, both through her salt-of-the-earth singing and unmatched touch of the kantele. And while she is ever an unfettered soul, unafraid to cross physical and metaphysical borders, there’s something particularly special about the assembly of musicians on Wind And Sun. With trumpeter Mathias Eick, saxophonist Trygve Seim, bassist Mats Eilertsen, and drummer Thomas Strønen, she brings life to the poetry of Jon Fosse as if it were the most natural process in the world—and perhaps, for her, it is. 

“Row My Ocean” sets a mood of sound and spirit. Its image of pushing against the water to move forward is the band’s modus operandi. It takes the rhythm of the waves not as a challenge to overcome but as a guiding heartbeat. This underlying pulse continues in the title track, an understated yet no less powerful instrumental that shines its way into fantasy and, in a later sung version, reveals secrets of the sea with maternal urgency.

The feet of Langeland’s composing fit perfectly in the shoes of Fosse’s verses. Her fluid yet pointillistic approach to “It Walks And Walks” echoes the poem’s dark yet life-affirming slant. As the gravity of land replaces the freedom of the waves, we feel the weight in our legs and feet and stumble into “Boat in Darkness,” where solitude becomes a path to resolution. Meanwhile, “Hands That Held” snakes and wanders as if accustomed to the uncertainty of living in the moment, unfolding in the album’s most haunting melody. Even “A Child Who Exists” (co-written with Geirr Tveitt) suffers no loss of space in being accompanied only by Seim. Neither does “Wind Song,” in which Jew’s harp and kantele dance as their own light source in the night.

Langeland’s kantele playing seems to get more enchanting with every release, and in “When The Heart Is A Moon,” we hear just how masterfully delicate her contact can be. It sparkles without offending the eye and takes our ear by the hand. The band is also locked into a faithful unity with the listener. Even Eick’s rising solo, a bird in low flight, never loses sight of its shadow throughout “I Want To Listen To The Angels,” while Eilertsen’s arco streaks and Strønen’s brushes evoke a subtle blues in “A Window Tells” and “The Love,” respectively. Band unity is on full display in the triptych of “You Hear My Heart Come” / “These Inner Days” / “Let The Rain Breathe,” where a single note needs forcing. Like the journey as a whole, every twist and turn speaks freely from the heart in the fullness of knowing that the destination is already behind us.