Jóhann Jóhannsson
And in the endless pause there came the sound of bees
Type
Jóhann Jóhannsson lives in a world haunted by ghostly choirs, lonely hums, ominous silence, and the occasional thunderclap. On "And in the endless pause there came the sound of bees", the Icelandic composer's newest full-length, he takes his cinematic leanings to an all-time high. It works beautifully, even when divorced from source material (Marc Craste's BAFTA-nominated animated short film "Varmints")
While "City building" features the delicious urgency of driving strings, the descriptor that could best be applied to the majority of the album is glacial, which, it should be noted, is used as a compliment. Jóhannsson teases out his undercurrent of sadness through thirteen tracks, underscoring it with pervasive wistful highlights such as "Rainwater" and "The gift". Thematic, without falling into Philip Glass repetition, spare without becoming dull, Jóhannsson's pristine sensitivity and light touch has the power to elevate both film and life alike.
- Laura Studarus
