Anecdotes
Le concert a eu lieu à 17h.
C’est la première que Björk interprète le titre "Vertebrae By Vertebrae" lors de la tournée Vulnicura.
Presse
Björk actually kicked things off on Saturday, at 5pm, with her show of two halves : one set of orchestrated reworkings of her 2015 album Vulnicura, and a second set of also-symphonic “hits”. For the first she wore a red puffy dress and matching shoes and headdress, but really the mood was blue, although Vulnicura is an autopsy of her relationship with Matthew Barney, so maybe the colour did make sense. This was non-electronic Björk, singing sweetly these sometimes sour scenes from a marriage, the alternately swelling and stabbing strings and weeping violins conjuring mournfulness and melodrama. It is to her credit that she managed to make Vulnicura – her Blood on the Tracks if not her Berlin or Sister Lovers – a viable commercial attraction, giving shape and order to the emotional tumult, to these snippets of words said in anger (“You betrayed your own heart / corrupted that organ”) and anguished cries about the destruction of a family. She created intimacy in an immense space. After the interval, the mood was lightened somewhat as Björk returned for renditions of Jóga and Bachelorette, for which she wore what looked like an extraterrestrial burka. Of course she did. Guardian
The power of Björk’s Vulnicura performance lies in her ability to emote for our viewing pleasure. It sounds sickening when I phrase it that way, but stay with me here. She joined her full orchestra onstage at Harpa wearing a puffy red dress designed by David Ferreira, red stockings, and red platform shoes. On her face was a mask that looked a lot like a ruff. In that moment, she looked just like the Queen Of Hearts, and then she started to sing and I decided it wasn’t an apt comparison. Björk began with “Stonemilker,” which opens Vulnicura with an admission of distance. “Our jux-ta-po-si-tioning fate,” Björk sang, landing each syllable as if it were its own word. “Find our mutual coordinates.” I’m not really a cryer, and I cried. There is something so overwhelmingly sad about watching Björk sing these songs. She has made sad music in the past, yes, but there’s always been a playfulness to her character that transcends misery. On Vulnicura, though, she’s kind of just letting us know every single dark thought that passed through her head during a life-altering breakup. To see anyone stripped of their joy is terrible. To see Björk deprived of hers is borderline unbearable. Stereogum
