Erik Wøllo - Emotional landscapes

A true institution on the traditional side of ambient music, for three decades now the Norwegian Erik Wøllo has been an undisputed protagonist and pillar of atmospheric music. His secret, revealed through the gradual evolution of his sound, lies entirely in an unmistakable blend, one quietly imitated by many. A style that has sprouted from a myriad of different roots, all united by their organic quality: from jazz — explored in the brief but dazzling Celeste experience, a collective from which a handful of future protagonists of Norwegian atmospheric experimentation would later emerge — to the rock of his very first solo works, passing through the electronics of his youthful projects, the trancedelia inspired by the distant California of the Eighties, and classical music. All of this brought together and blended under the banner of an almost unique melodic sensibility, one entirely foreign to most of his contemporaries. With these ingredients, Wøllo has, in recent years, arrived at a highly distinctive soundscape, built on the dialogue between keyboards and guitar, with the latter reinvented in the role of "lead voice" and called upon to embroider over the harmonic carpets of the former. To his friend and far more celebrated colleague Steve Roach, meanwhile, goes the credit for having "discovered" and revealed to a wider audience the sonic artistry of this craftsman of atmosphere, rediscovered in the last decade thanks precisely to the beautiful "Stream Of Thought", recorded together with the Californian, and the subsequent signing to Projekt, now the steady partner for all his releases. Now that Wøllo's music has finally come to occupy the place it deserves in the ambient pantheon, we wanted to retrace his long and richly varied journey, meeting him and having him tell it to us directly.

Over these thirty years of your career you've managed to develop a decidedly unique, not to say utterly unmistakable, style, one that remains a point of reference for anyone approaching atmospheric music. How did you get, in that sense, to the point where you find yourself now?

I've always tried to find my own personal, unique voice. I've gone through many artistic stages over the course of my career, gathering ideas from practically everywhere. But each time, I've tried to stay focused on my concept. As the years go by and age advances, awareness of what you're doing grows too. That's why I've studied and experimented with different musical genres, but despite that I've always kept everything together, filtering it through my own sensibility. That's how you arrive at something special, as if everything bore your own signature.

Are there, in your vast discography, one or more works that represented a turning point for you?

"Traces", my third album, was an important turning point. I'd tried my hand at so many different genres, from jazz to rock to classical music, but that's where I finally managed to break free from all the influences that had guided me up to that point and create something new. I had just left almost all the bands I'd played with up until then, and set aside most of my live performing. I wanted to focus solely on that album, and to work on it I set up a small studio in my apartment in Oslo, more or less exiling myself from everyone except my wife. It turned out to be the right thing to do — it's something you need to do every now and then. The ideas I developed for that record are still completely relevant today, and you can find them in practically all of my recent work: above all, the desire to create music that's deep and advanced, yet with a surface that's simple and accessible to any listener.

How important was meeting Steve Roach for the development of your career? And your relationship with Projekt? I imagine it contributed a great deal to giving you the visibility you deserve…

I met Steve at one of his concerts in Sausalito, California, I think it was 2005. We came together late, even though we'd both been listening to each other's music for a long time! He discovered "Traces" back in 1985 (the year it came out, ed.), while I loved — and still love — "Dreamtime Return". So it felt natural to start working together, and we're both very proud and satisfied with the two records we've completed. Anyway, yes, my relationship with Projekt did indeed start through him!

More generally, you've worked with a huge number of musicians throughout your career. Do you think your musical language is particularly well suited to collaboration?

Yes, that's true, sometimes with artists a world away from mine, like Kouame Sereba… I think my varied background has always helped me appreciate all the arts as a whole, including music in its many different forms… In the end, it's only the surface that makes one genre different from another. I've also always been passionate about archaeology and ethnology, and as a result I've delved deeply into indigenous music from India, Asia and Africa. My concept of music always adapts to any other form of expression or art, and I think my work with Kouame proves it.

Thirty years on from your earliest work, you're still putting out roughly an album a year. Maybe you haven't reached Steve Roach's level of prolificacy, but those are still impressive numbers! What does each new record represent in your journey?

Every record is a step forward, or at least I hope so — that's what I try to do. But on the other hand, it's also true that I always focus on the same concept, so each album risks being, in many cases, a variation on a common theme. Like a sculpture viewed from different angles, if that makes sense. I also like putting out shorter formats like the EP: to me those works are like short stories or poems, while an album is more like a novel.

Actually, I don't recall too many short-format releases from you, but your most recent one is indeed an EP, "Tundra". Where did it come from?

I haven't put out that many EPs, it's true, but the few I have are among the things I'm proudest of. Sometimes I find myself working on tracks that I realize would never find room or meaning within the context of an album, but that would work beautifully in smaller concepts, more like suites: EPs, precisely! "Tundra", specifically, is a collection of tracks I worked on for several years, blending ethnic elements with modern technology.

Your last three full-length albums, on the other hand, do seem to evolve along the same stylistic path. What's the musical and thematic common thread that connects them?

"Gateway", "Airborne" and "Timelines" are indeed closely connected to one another, built on similar ideas. Stylistically, all three are constructed around the fusion of organic electronics, rhythm and melody, orchestrated and "layered" to achieve deep atmospheres. Many critics have written that this is music that projects listeners into the future, and although that's not an idea of mine, it's an interesting interpretation, especially when it comes to "Timelines".

You were one of the first artists to approach ambient music coming from a thoroughly "classical" background. How did that path take shape for you?

Between the late Seventies and early Eighties, I started studying classical music and delving into the work of composers like Debussy, Ravel and Satie, who were strongly inspired by Impressionist painting around the turn of the century. Both progressive rock and Pink Floyd drew heavily on their legacy, and I came to realize the indirect connection between what I'd done up to that point and that music. Later on I discovered Brian Eno and his "On Land", as well as the minimalist composers. Finally, hugely important for me was meeting John Cage during his trip to Oslo in 1983: a moment of great inspiration for me, coming as I did from a background rooted largely in instrumental virtuosity!

Is there any kind of connection between your music and your homeland, Norway?

I was born in a Norwegian district where ethnic culture has a very strong influence. So that kind of heritage runs in my blood and my genes. You can sometimes hear it in certain tracks of mine, for example "Huldra" (from the album "Wind Journey", 2001, ed.) and "Hildring" (from "Guitar Nova", 2000, ed.). And being Norwegian, I couldn't not have been influenced by the music of Edvard Grieg! I've also been involved in many projects with local folk artists and performers.

One of the most interesting aspects of your recent work is the mix of electronics and guitar. In pieces like “Airborne” or “Timelines” itself, much of the soundscape unfolds around exactly this duet. How did you arrive at the idea of intersecting these two instruments?

As a guitarist, I've always worked a lot on this — I've always pursued the idea of incorporating my main instrument into electronic soundscapes, and doing so as naturally as possible. That's why, over time, I've developed a range of synth sounds designed to blend with the guitar's own sound. The use of acoustic guitar has also played a significant role in this process, as you can hear on “Solstice”. “Timelines” is actually one of the records where I managed to strike the best balance, thanks above all to the many looped arpeggios. But really, a lot of the sounds you hear on my recent records come from the guitar, which I very often record separately, process, and then turn into samples that manage to retain that vibrant feeling only guitar has, as well as its organic quality. The word "organic" is very important to me, because it's part of my background. Then again, I've made quite a few records using only acoustic guitar, like “Guitar Nova” and “Blue Sky, Red Guitars”. I'm planning to make a new one soon.

Do you see the guitar, then, as a kind of “lead voice” in your music?

Generally, with guitars I build the melodic eye of my compositions, which is the heart from which each of my pieces grows: this "human touch" is sometimes obvious, sometimes less so. I hear a lot of electronic music around lately that's completely devoid of it. Composers who limit themselves to relying on keyboards, and in my view that causes something to be missing from their music. That said, I have no particular rules, no compositional "formula": it can easily happen that some of my tracks don't need guitar at all.

And in fact you do have some purely electronic records, several of them quite recent too — the three “Silent Currents” albums come to mind… What does electronic music represent for you?

“Silent Currents” is a project I've developed from 2002 to today, after playing on the Philadelphia radio show “Star’s End”. It's a project rooted in a very slow ambient sound, built on loops but also on many sounds played directly on keyboards. Anyway, I'm currently developing a new guitar pedalboard specifically to bring into that project!

Do you still use only keyboards and synthesizers, or do you also rely on digital tools? What do you think about the "eternal conflict" between digital and analog?

I try to use the best of both worlds: synthesizers and keyboards for the basic elements, and digital software to process most of the soundscape and sound effects. I started using synthesizers very early on, I loved the idea of having everything inside those "boxes"! Over time I've sold off some of the more obsolete machines, but I still consider the tactile element essential, so I still use synthesizers a great deal. That said, I've also developed a few techniques over the years, like processing sounds on the laptop and then performing them on keyboards. I created a VST synthesizer for PC that ended up becoming quite popular. Plenty of people have sent me tracks made using that tool of mine!

If there's one thing I've always appreciated about your work, it's its ability to carry genuine emotional weight. Do you consider this aspect important in your music?

I think that, again, ties back to my background as a guitarist, as well as the fact that I'm simply not interested in a kind of music that fails to lead the listener into a particular mental or emotional state. There's a common belief going around that all music made with synthesizers is bound to be cold and clinical. The truth is that, with today's electronic instruments, you actually have the chance to create something incredibly warm and moving. Music that has a far more direct relationship with the human body and physicality than what you get with traditional instruments: if you put a microphone on a pregnant woman's belly, you'll be making electronic music — music made of her heartbeat and the gurgles of both her and the baby she's carrying. How could you achieve something like that with traditional instruments without it becoming trite? The same goes for the sounds of nature: how can you reproduce the howl of the wind with a violin without immediately grasping the true origin of that sound? Of course, it's just as true that you can, if you want, be cold and sterile making electronic music too, because the possibilities are essentially endless.

That makes me think of “The Polar Drones”, where you worked on a concept centered around cold, yet ended up with an incredibly warm soundscape. Do you think you'd ever be capable of making something truly "cold"?

Much of the music on “The Polar Drones” comes from work produced for a documentary about an expedition to the South Pole. So I had a whole series of images of icy, snow-covered landscapes in front of me while working on those pieces. Very few of my records have come about this way: “Solstice” has a similar background, since it gathers tracks made for a TV series about Jostedalsbreen, Norway's largest glacier, and so it's likewise tied to the cold. In both cases, I don't think the music is actually particularly "cold" — though of course that depends on each listener's individual perception. And the title itself can play its part too, to be honest: what is a cold sound, exactly? Probably a sound made up of a lot of high frequencies, like a gust of wind. Everything is always connected, one way or another, to what nature is like, and in that sense I think being born and raised in Norway matters a great deal: if I had different landscapes and different sounds in my DNA, I'd certainly be making different music!

What kind of music do you usually listen to these days?

Music very different from what I work on. Right now I'm actually studying Maurice Ravel's “Quartetto d’archi in Fa Maggiore”. I tend to listen to a lot of impressionist classical music, often in string quartet form. On the flip side, for the past few weeks I've been obsessed with Tool. And sometimes I find myself going back instead to old loves, my earliest influences, maybe hunting down some rare live performance on YouTube!

Speaking of which, what do you think about the live dimension when it comes to your own music? Do you feel it translates well to a live setting, or does it work better in a more intimate context, like a home stereo or the studio?

My main focus is and remains making music that works well on stereo systems, preferably on CD. I'm an audiophile myself, and many of my listeners are too, so I love sitting down and focusing on the music in every detail. But the live dimension can actually be really nice. In my performances I always present special, rearranged versions of my tracks, sometimes even adding unreleased parts for particular shows. Live electronic music, though, is often visually boring, which is why I always try to give my audience something "to watch" that complements and expands the concert experience.

Have you ever played in Italy?

No, and I'll have to make up for that, especially since I know I have quite a few listeners in Italy!

Last question: what projects are you working on right now?

I'm working on a new album that should be out soon, a work fairly similar to my recent previous ones, with a great variety of rhythmic elements in many tracks alongside more free-flowing, floating material.

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