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Magnus Bärtås
(MB): Hi Annika Ström. I've seen your new video Ten New Love
Songs. You have a beautiful voice. You do small melancholy pop songs
that are really catching. What kind of music do you like to listen
to?
Annika Ström
(AS): Thank you for the compliment. I started singing when I found
a synthesizer. I discovered quickly that it was an excellent way
to express something and combine it with the dull everyday videos
I make. An excellent way to seduce where there is a lack of sensual
visuality. When I started singing I was surprised that my voice
was so sad. I seem to gravitate toward the sentimental refrain,
close to the sickly-sweet. I don't choose the music I listen to,
though. I listen to the radio. And I have people record music for
me systematically. Music that they think I should listen to when
I work. In exchange I give them vinyl records with my own music
that I have had pressed. I do buy records once in a while. The latest
was Barry White.
MB: There are
certain repetitive themes. One of them is pictures from Spitsbergen.
These particular images can hardly be called boring or everyday.
Certain effects of the snow and the landscape, for example, your
shadow on the snow has its own visuell energy with extremely beautiful
effects. Other themes have this character of insignificance you
were talking about or perhaps one could say minimal drama - like
the cat being teased by the magpie. How do the songs relate to the
images? Would you say the videos are like a diary?
AS: I don't
think the images in the video have anything to do with the songs
at all. Well, not directly anyway. The songs are strictly emotional.
To harbor the kind of feelings these songs express gives me (when
I harbored feelings like these) an astounding view of reality. The
surroundings seem imperfect, absurd - to be in this sumptuous landscape
that can't come close to what you carry inside, emotionally. And
about the cat in the yard which I often study from my bedroom window.
I just want to say that I hate that magpie because it wakes me with
its damned cawing along with the terror it uses on the cat who submits
patiently to this masochistic game. In that way its a like a reflection
in a diary.
MB: Different
people are featured in the video, some of which I recognize from
the art world. In some cases they sing with you, in others they
sing alone. Karl Holmqvist drones out his song in a typical Holmqvistian
manner. Was it coincidence that determined who would act in the
film?
AS: I've filmed
so many people who sing my songs and I am very careful to make a
good mix. I want an assortment of people in my environment. Several
of my friends have been cut out - even though they sang well - just
because I didn't want an "Annika-and-her-friend's-film".
MB: Who is the
man who shows his appartment and his furniture and the use of his
chairs and armchairs? The one who describes some sort of topography
of comfort.
AS: The man
in the video is my uncle. His name is Bertil.
MB: The form
of the music video itself, as it has developed, accommodates everything.
It can tell small stories, recall mental atmosphere, accommodate
idol worship, be used as dance lessons, and just express itself
visually. In your video there are several indications of these languages
while everything is brought together with the songs. Do you think
your video has anything whatsoever to do with what we usually think
of as music video?
AS: I never
watch music videos unless I happen to be in a fitness center or
a music store. And then I'm usually glued to the set. I'm not very
well oriented when it comes to music and music videos and everything
associated with it. I don't think my videos have anything to do
with the music world. But I have actually made a music video a few
years ago for a German group but it didn't have anything to do with
me. It was more of a service video.
Translation
by Melinda Bergman
.
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