Opening Image – Arve Herniksen
Opening Image is a piece of music by Norwegian artist Arve Herniksen. He is known for the distinctive sound he produces from his trumpet, which is heavily influenced by the Japanese shakuhachi flute. He has a unique singing style which could easily be mistaken for a woman’s voice. His lyrics are wordless and he sings within the soprano range.
Herniksen’s wordless singing style has been influenced by Norwegian folk songs, Italian arias and Eastern music. I think this adds to the mystique and Zen of the piece as it is very soft and calming.
The use of the trumpet in this piece is interesting as it has been taken almost totally out its normal roles and used in a way not normally done. I think that the sound he makes compliments his vocals really well as at some points it’s hard to distinguish between the two. Herniksen has managed to create a totally unique sound drawing from a range of different cultures and times.
‘’This is music that entirely bypasses the intellect and goes straight to the soul.” John Kelman
The song immediately evokes thoughts of peace and tranquillity. There is also a mystery to the piece, which leads to a meditative feeling. I think this shows how the artist has taken influence from the Japanese culture. You defiantly imagine the classic misty mountain with cherry blossom scene which is so reminiscent of rural Japan.
When I listened again I decided to look at it from a different perspective. I thought the music could be quite sinister, creepy or sad if the right imagery was put with it.
I began thinking about the way it made me feel a sense of loneliness and when I’ve felt lonely in life. When I lived in London I always felt very alone travelling on the tube. Even though there’s so many people it’s a very isolated space where everyone is in their own bubble.
It was quite easy to think of a short story once I’d really thought in depth about the track. I want to show a person on the tube who is shunned and is left on his own in the corner where emotions get the better of him and he melts into the floor, trying to hide from the life he is living. When he is just a puddle I want an arm to reach up out of the gloop, as if he is reaching out but no one is there.