Una Hamilton Helle, Nekrosus, 2015 (LPR-01). Words, voice and imae by Una Hamilton Helle
For Last Post Recordings Una Hamilton Helle offers the listener a sound postcard with the voice over from her video installation Nekrosus. The front of the postcard shows a photograph taken by the artist close to her childhood cabin in Norway. This was the location where she first experienced a deep-seated fear while watching the edges of a forest seemingly inhabited by supernatural beings, well known from Norwegian folklore. In the same tortured vocals as black metal, a genre that also takes inspiration from the dark undercurrents of nature, Una Hamilton Helle describes in her native language a desolate place, located at the edge of two worlds separated by a thin veil of reality.
The edge of the forest marked the threshold Beyond lay a realm of myths... ..where an eternal black mist was said to reside. It was an unknown place, a strange terrain A place where figures in the dark would cry out travellers’ names and lure them off their course. Into shadowy kingdoms. --
This is where they belonged The waiting Those that lived amongst wilderness, Those that were wilderness. Lurking in the shade. Watching…. - Enticed by haunting melodies some strayed too far, They drowned in the cold embrace of the lakes. Became tangled in the undergrowth, Ensnared into green arms. Trapped inside impenetrable mountain domains. Here they lay motionless. Immobilized. Not a sound. Forever departed. - These forces were perpetually present in the landscape. Lingering on from a time forgotten. Forever waiting.
There were those that chose to throw off the cloak of society and willingly ventured into the forest. Giving themselves over to Nature, they ran free with the shadows of the world. Becoming the shadows, like whispers in the mist.
In present times they are ignored. Their importance has diminished, their existence is ridiculed. Their language is long forgotten. Closed ears meet their song.
The origins of music are no longer heard in the callings from the forest. But the undergrowth is rustling. And the mountains still watch. And occasionally one can hear an ever so faint murmur in the treetops.
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