Hekla is Hekla Magnúsdóttir, and Turnar is, I believe, her fourth full-length album. Known for her theremin playing, Turnar sees (or perhaps more precisely hears) her adding layers to her music, strings and church organs giving her otherworldly compositions a new layer of sombre depth. It’s a far cry from my first encounter with her circa 2010 as part of the surf-rock instrumental group Bárujárn, though a welcome one (no shade toward Bárujárn, who I always enjoyed live) and one that perfectly fits her chosen instrument.
It’s difficult for me to write about dark ambient works such as Turnar – how do you put into words the mood the compositions create? I can use words like “brooding” and “sombre”, but what does that really communicate? That said, I’ll do my best.
The additional instrumentation provides Turnar with a richness that, to my ears, helps the theremin reach its full potential. On its own it can be at times a bit much, especially after a few songs, but with a thoughtful supporting ensemble it can create secondary and even tertiary moods, providing more emotional depth. “Var” is a lovely example, the low rumble of percussion creating several possibilities – oppressive, roiling, even militaristic in the right setting – but the theremin firmly establishes the song’s true essence, a spiritualism that alternates between ecstasy and despair. The same is true on “Ólga,” the opening cello conjuring a yearning, distant clarion call on the darkest, foggiest night that allows the theremin to invoke the siren-song of Greek mythology, calling you sweetly to the dark depths that are sure to envelop you as the pull you down, down, down, into a cold embrace.
Turnar is available digitally and on vinyl at the Hekla Bandcamp page HERE, so go give it a listen.