Communicating Emotions in Another Form
“Last year I composed the piece ‘Hlaupari ársins’ (Runner of the Year) for instrumentalists and runners on treadmills.” Ljósmynd/Katrín Þorgerður Jóhannesdóttir
Translation: Ásdís Sól Ágústsdóttir
The musician Katrín Helga Ólafsdóttir is better known by her stage name K.óla. In March, she was nominated for two Icelandic Music Awards, one in the category “Brightest Hope” and the other for her first album, Allt verður alltílæ, which was up for pop album of the year. The album also received the Kraum Award, an initiative focused on supporting the work of young artists and thereby bringing attention to new and exciting Icelandic music. Katrín was one of the founding members of the band Milkhouse and is also a member of Post-Dreifing, a group of independent young artists who focus on experimentalism and have been very prominent on the Icelandic music scene these past few years. Katrín, who is 23 years old, is in her final year studying composition at the Iceland University of the Arts.
Disassociation from the personal
The album Allt verður alltílæ (Everything Will Be Alright) affects the reader like a personal diary. With sincerity and a personal tone, the lyrics describe an emotional journey. “Interestingly enough, I usually begin with the music and think about the lyrics last,” says Katrín. “Writing lyrics can often be a headache for me. I still wanted the lyrics on the album to be something that I would really say, based on what I have experienced. At the same time, I’ve started playing around with using a mask, which I find fun. When I put the mask on, I dare to say many things that I would never say to someone’s face. There’s a sort of strange disassociation from the personal that forms in the lyrics, but it also gives me power to dare being even more personal, which is an interesting contradiction. I myself am still trying to figure out the mask.”
Katrín’s newest album, PLASTPRINSESSAN (The Plastic Princess) came out in February this year and has a dreamier and more adventurous flair than her first album. On this album, she tackles consumerism and climate concerns. “I wanted an outlet for the sorrow I feel for the state of the world. Mankind is such a huge problem. I also wanted to convey my feelings of guilt and admit to myself that I am a part of the problem. We all are. When we filmed the music video in a local supermarket, people complimented me for the plastic dress I wore, which was a peculiar feeling. It particularly stunned me when I saw a little girl look at me all wide-eyed. Even though the album is in a fantastical package, these are really the times we live in, it’s just so strange. We pack everything into plastic and we want to control everything.”
Wit and playfulness
Katrín’s soundscape mixes the different traditions of pop music and classical music. On both of her albums, classical compositions are interwoven with more pop riffs, percussion, freer vocal technique, and candid lyrics. “I am releasing my own music, but I’m also studying classical composition. Sometimes there are similarities between the two, but often they’re very different,” says Katrín. “While I do make pop music and release it on Spotify, I also do completely different projects in school, working with space and trying out different ideas. Last year I composed the piece ‘Hlaupari ársins’ (Runner of the Year) for instrumentalists and runners on treadmills. It’s not something I would release on an album, but I’m really happy I wrote it. I think what unites these different forms I work with might be just that sort of wit and playfulness,” she says.
Katrín says finding time for her own musical endeavors alongside her formal composition studies can be difficult. “My first two years at the Iceland University of the Arts, I was incredibly busy with my studies,” says Katrín. “It was a strange experience to feel as if I hadn’t composed anything, even though I was studying composition. Now I work more independently, which suits me well. The program offers me many tools which I then have to choose from, based on what is right for me. This has also given me a certain amount of self confidence, which in turn transfers over to my pop music.”
“I probably would have never dared to write a string quartet if I wasn’t studying composition,” adds Katrín. “Perhaps it also works the other way around; at the same time, I let myself play and be a bit free in my composition studies. It’s fun to see someone sweat and utter something strange on a treadmill inside a church, surrounded by instrumentalists. I let myself produce that,” she says. “It also was invaluable to be able to spend my summers working in creative jobs in Kópavogur. During my time there, I sometimes felt like a traitor, since I only wanted to write pop music.”
“I would like to see more nonsense and fun so that people can realise that you can still wig out with new music.” Ljósmynd/Annalísa Hermannsdóttir
Communicating emotions in another form
Katrín’s musical career began when she started learning the piano in elementary school. “I almost fell off the piano bandwagon, because I never wanted to practice like I was supposed to,” she says. “I always found it more fun to play like I wanted to, which wasn’t well received. I soon began composing my own music with Milkhouse and that was the greatest education of my life. You learn so much from being in a band. You learn about communication, cooperation, making compromises, financial and practical matters. I am incredibly thankful for that,” says Katrín.
“As a teenager, I used music to try to understand complicated emotions,” she adds. “Music has always been a way for me to take something I don’t understand and transfer it onto another form. For others, that might mean writing lyrics or painting a picture, but for me it just meant sitting down at the piano and playing however I wanted.”
More nonsense and fun
When asked if there is anything in the musical realm that she would like to experiment with, Katrín says she is excited to try out more instruments. “Then I would really be down for more experimentation within the classical music world,” she says. “Some collective, comparable to the experimentalism of Post-Dreifing. People often hesitate to show up to events where new music is being performed. I’ve heard people say that they feel stupid and that they don’t relate to the music. It’s different from listening to choir music that just slips into you, or pop music where all of a sudden you find yourself dancing, or cinematic music that takes you on an emotional journey. The group of people who show up to listen to new classical music is certainly small. I would like to see more nonsense and fun so that people can realise that you can still wig out with new music, perhaps mix together different mediums of performances, music and art. That’s exciting.”
There is much on the horizon for Katrín at the moment, but among the things she’s working on is her final project for the Iceland University of the Arts. The outcome will be a mixture of film, theatre and concert. “It’s an assortment of live performances and digital recordings, both visual and auditory. I find it very exciting to work with different mediums and to activate all the senses,” she says. She also plans on releasing PLASTPRINSESSAN on vinyl, she’s working on music for two short films, she’s preparing to participate in the festival “Ung Nordisk Musik” in Finland this summer, and she’s already working on a new album.