Line Gøttsche made Omonia as a consequence of dealing with a sentimental, cyclic thinking, not only resulting in a lengthy heartache after a break-up, but also playing a role in her failing attempts to match up to the demands for clearness and straightforward compositional narrative witch had met her as a songwriter in the never succeeding popband Belle Ville.
Turning to an old advise from the ex-partner for the loss of whom she was still mourning, Line decided to give up her pop career. She relocated to Athens to live at the first floor of a house only few hundred meters from the Acropolis, and with a grand piano on the ground floor.
Stretching back to her earlier days as a classical violinist, she started working on a suite of intertwined pieces to which no “rationality” was forced.
Massaged by Greek air, embraced by Athen’s ridge of greyblue mountains, and encouraged by her first readings of Proust’s never-too-detailed prose, Gøttsche finally found herself working without self-denial, and a new music began to sprout.
In its final eight pieces, the work became an investigation of the concepts of repetition, variation and transition. This on a musical as well as in the personal sphere.
Having found a home in this trio of phenomena as a pivot of her artistic research, Line expanded the Omonia project with a video. Starting with a similar organic approach of collaborating with the what-is-already-there Line and her brother filmed a suset in the Danish Dollerup bakker, resulting in the art documentary Omonia (27 min). The video shows a cycle as it unfolds in nature (day-to-day, season-to-season), and let the viewer take the perspective of a contemplator gazing long enough to see how a change of context is seemingly applying a change to the objects themselves.
Drawing a line from the sunset video into her own mindscapes and work, Line says: “one day, I have one feeling; the next day, I have it again, but it appears a little different, because the weather has changed, or because it got enfolded in the light of another new variation of another emotion or a thought, or maybe an actual “concrete” event in the world. This wondrous “the same yet not the same” fascination is essential for my work, and is echoed in my music, when I repeat, let’s say, a melody, but in different harmonizations.”
“Time is the essential ingredient in my work recipe, in its being the most basic, and also the most magical component - the most trustworthy employee in the orchestra. Its work results in an automatic river of variation, structure, randomness, growth, and also decay. I try to reveal a tiny curation of elements of this maneuver by exposing a little selection of the variations growing forth as a result of this flow.”
“My practise so is a collaboration with time and its sequels. In Omonia (27 min), for example, Thomas and I expose what it does to a section of nature; how it creates this “the same and not yet the same” function, which also plays an essential role in Omonia and its interest for the concepts of variation and transition.”
“The process of writing the suite was quite natural. Sitting at the piano, I let, like a tree crown or a root network, this system of variations expand in an almost autonomous way, until it became this little auditive picture of the fluctuating mind in time.”