20231119

  






Michael Rolfe Gira

20200120


Michael Gira er en kompliceret mand. 

Som kunstner har han nået mere end de fleste, med flere bøger og en yderst omfangsrig og dyb diskografi bag sig. Han er intens og uhyre fokuseret i sit virke. Michael Gira har en usædvanlig evne til at indfange følelser, intuition og råstyrke i et udtryk der er vasket fri for overflødighed og musikalske svinkeærinder. Han går efter struben, når der tages livtag med tilværelsens stationer. 

Død, magt, skabelse, kærlighed, kødelighed, styrke og forfald er nogle af de store emner, som har været omkring Michael Giras stærke hænder og sorte tunge. I Giras univers er der ingen undskyldninger for ikke at se tilværelsen dybt i øjnene. 

Fra en spæd start med det gotiske post punk band Circus Mort i 1981, trådte Gira direkte efter i karakter som banebrydende støj messias i Swans, der med udgivelser som Filth og Cop, satte de tidlige firsere i brand. Lyden var præget af sønderrivende lydniveauer, enkle og straffende akkordgange og dyriske rytmer. Gentagelserne, den metalliske tyngde og Giras direkte tekster på disse plader, flirtede med en næsten sadomasochistisk tilgang til publikum. 

I årene efter  begyndte Swans langsomt men sikkert at transformere. Arrangementerne blev mere storslåede, instrumenteringen blev udvidet og der kom gæstevokaler på fra sangerinden Jarboe. Udtrykket blev mere shamanistisk og opløftende. Det tribale og dyriske kerneudtryk var bibeholdt, men lyden ændrede karakter til at blive nærmest religiøst transcenderende. Pladerne i denne periode var både smukke og skræmmende, de var forholdsvis enkle i opbygning, men komplekse og rige i indhold. Samtidig med udgivelser fra Swans, nåede Gira at medvirke på et par plader som gæst, samt udgive det kvælende mørke solo album Drainland.

Swans slukkede lyset med pladen Soundtracks For the Blind i 1996 og en sidste verdensturne i 1997. Herefter blev der stille for en stund. 


I 1998 stiftede Michael Gira Angels of Light, som var en støvet og mere traditionel gruppe. Lyden var forankret i den akustiske guitar og målet var at komme væk fra den rock orienterede musik i  Swans. Det blev til en hel del fine, detaljerige og afdæmpede sange; som gav Gira mulighed for at nedbarbere det soniske kaos og fokusere på sine evner som sangskriver. Alle orkestrets plader blev udgivet på mandens eget pladeselskab Young God records. Gruppen var aktiv frem til 2007, hvorefter Gira valgte at opløse bandet med sin sædvanlige kompromisløshed, da han simpelthen følte, at der ikke var så meget mere at sige. Tiden i Angels of Light havde givet Gira muligheden for at spille sammen med en bred vifte af fantastiske musikere og det var også blandt disse, at han fandt fremtidige medlemmer af et reaktiveret og revitaliseret Swans. 

Pladen My Father Will Guide Me Up a Rope To the Sky fra 2010, varslede en ny begyndelse for Swans. Pladen bestod af en række ophøjede og episke folk inspirerede numre, men lytteren kunne ane en snert af de vulkanske kraftudladninger fra tidligere Swans plader, ulmende under overfladen. 

To år efter kom det voldsomme tredobbelte album The Seer, som af mange betegnes som et af hovedværkerne i Giras diskografi. Årene efter flød det tilsyneladende uhæmmet kreativt fra Michael Giras pen, med et utal af maraton lignende live seancer på mange timers varighed verden over. 

I perioden fra 2010 og frem til den seneste Swans plade Leaving Meaning fra sidste år, hvor Gira igen har skiftet både udtryk og medlemmer ud, blev det til 8 albums, hvoraf især førnævnte the Seer og den episke To Be Kind viser hvor potent rock baseret musik stadig kan være. 

Michael Gira er notorisk kendt for sin afsky for at lave interviews over digitale medier, han er en temperamentsfuld herre, som kræver det maksimale af sig selv og sin omverden. 

Creation.


For alot of people, myself included, the music you make is very much an emotional and sometimes sensual overload. One can have an almost intuitive or instinctive connection with it. How important is intuition to the creation of your music and art?


MG: Intuition is everything to me. I have an almost religious faith in the power of intuition. I work very hard on clearing my mind so that the words and music can flow in through a portal in the back of my head unfettered. In a sense, when this is successfully achieved, I feel that I am occupied by an alien force, greater than myself, and at the best moments I don’t feel I have done the work personally.



In various media you have mentioned that musical theory doesn't interest you in the traditional sense, can you elaborate on this stance, perhaps getting into your thoughts on the relative (un)importance of  the academic approach to making music and art? Do you feel that having vast amounts of training can actually be limiting?


MG: I have no thoughts or stance on this other than how it applies to my own experience and circumstance in particular. For instance, Alice Coltrane and Nina Simone were both highly trained and made transcendent and often spiritually profound music. But as concerns myself, I’ve never been interested in learning about music technically or music theory. I just feel it doesnt apply to me personally. With will and insight one can do whatever one wants in this world. Naturally, discipline and rigor are essential in forging a form out of nothing. In my case, I ignore my limitations and dive in and wrestle with the material until it has reached its potential. 


You have always come across as very dedicated and passionate to an almost frightening degree. How do you maintain inspiration after the gigantic body of work and touring schedule since reactivating SWANS and how difficult is it focusing on artistic expression whilst living in times of constant "need" for renewal, internet, social media and life as a father and husband? Do you find any sort of "meaning" in the creation of art? What does artistic expression mean to you personally?


MG: We all have an extremely limited time on earth, and what we do with that time both defines our identity and offers us the opportunity to realize and possibly surpass our given potential. Personally, I don’t feel whole or really alive unless I’m working on something, whether writing or music. It’s what makes me who I am, what gives me a reason to keep on breathing. I spent many years in my youth doing menial labor to survive and felt particularly trapped in the vice of consumer capitalism, and the rage this fostered in me provided me with the impetus to put all of my energy and potential into making the work I make, and I’m very grateful I’ve subsequently been able to survive doing what I love. 


To me there is a strong sense of pain and existential dread in your discography, especially in the earlier works. A similar feel can be found in some of the "extreme" musical genres. One could postulate that this is primarily the case in the musical traditions of western culture (from Delta blues to something like black metal). Do you have an opinion on why that is?


MG: I have no opinion on this and don’t agree with the premise. I’ve always found the musical experiences and work in which I’ve been involved to be elating and ultimately elevating, despite whatever language or form it has used, and I think, from what I can glean, the work has provided a positive experience for the audience that has received it as well. 


 

Live.


When performing on stage, how important is it for you to "feel" or connect with the audience? Seeing you perform one gets the feeling that you are very much present in the moment. Is this a fair assesment and can you elaborate on the importance of this? 


MG: It’s the job of a performer to lose themselves in the music entirely. Sometimes this doesn’t happen, of course, and the performance can feel frustrating, rote and routine. But the best moments are when the music is playing the performer and not the reverse. When this happens, an audience’s experience correlates to that of the performer.  


Would you say that your mindset has changed in regards to what you want the music do for or to the audience?


MG: I suppose in the early days there was a measure of antipathy for the audience, largely due to the fact that the music was outside their expectations or experience, and their response was anger or derision or indifference. So we returned the favor. But at a certain point one learned that the crucial thing was to immerse onself in the music itself, irrespective of whatever the response might be, and once this method was dilligently employed the music drew people in, rather than pushing them out. 


Can you tell us about the experience of travelling as a solo artist compared to touring with the massive orchestration of Swans?


MG: Performing solo is like being an ant on an anvil, waiting for the hammer to come down. In performing with Swans, we are the hammer. 



Body of work.


We are very much living in a digital age, with lightning fast media at our fingertips and a constant rise in click bait articles and easy to digest news media that are custom made to cater to a short attention span. Yet the epic and marathon live shows and mammoth recording sessions of Swans seem to be as popular as ever. Do you have a take on this?


MG: I just feel that if the intentions are true and the work is fully realized according to an internal necessity that a certain audience will gravitate towards the work. It’s obvious we’re not fucking around. I’ve been very gratified and honored to see the audience grow over the last several years, since I reformed Swans. 



Looking back at your body of work - do you have a special relationship with your recorded output and writing or do you simply move on to the next project? How do you for instance feel about something like the Consumer book today? Is there anything in the Gira canon that you feel particularly connected to?


MG: I’m never satified with the work, ever, and I’ve learned to accept that it’s always flawed in some way and that the important thing is the process and the intention and the experience of making it and following the path that each new effort implies.  

       

Your album Drainland contains some of your strongest work in my opinion, especially the beautiful song "Blind" has made a lasting impact. The subject of mortality is usually something that most people will shy away from thinking about. What are your thoughts on getting older, both as a musician and as a mortal man?


MG: Death is in my mind constantly, but not in a morose or lachrymose way. It provides urgency, and a need to see or grasp what’s behind the veil, behind or before the mind, before it’s too late.