I’m coming back to Gísli Gunnarsson quite quickly. He was here only a month ago with the track ‘Andlitin í Berginu’, which like this one ‘Glókolla’, is from his recently released album ‘Úr Öskunni’, which translates as ‘From the ashes’.
If your tongue, or brain, is tied in knots you have my sympathies. It isn’t the easiest language, is it?
A quick reminder of the story. Gísli is, or rather was, an inhabitant of the small Icelandic fishing town of Grindavík, having been required to evacuate during the series of volcanic eruptions close at hand that have taken place during the last couple of years or so.
‘Úr Öskunni’ arose out of that event as he chronicled the destruction of parts of the town, the emotion of its evacuation and the psychological toll on its population.
There was a video to accompany ‘Andlitin í Berginu’, featuring a lady with a body that represented the bleak landscape of the Reykjanes peninsula.
And there is another one to go with ‘Glókolla’, which is a sort of Icelandic pet name for a girl with blonde hair, after the small goldcrest bird. They do seem to have a thing about birds and their significance in Iceland. It wasn’t so long ago that we were reporting on Soffía’s song ‘Redwing’ referencing another small bird, one that toughs it out during the Icelandic winter rather than heading south for a spot of sunbathing.
As it happens his girlfriend of the moment was with him in Grindavík when the evacuation happened, offering support through it all, which meant more to him than he could put into words. He started calling her ‘Glókolla’ as a kind of nickname as she is blonde. That name, and everything it came to mean, became the heart of the song.
There’s something about many facets of Icelandic life that suggests power. The mighty rivers and waterfalls, gushing geysers, rapidly flowing lava, crashing waves into huge black rocks, even the muscle bound truck pullers they seem to find very easily each year for the ‘World’s Strongest Man’ contest.
And that power is right there in Gisli’s music, erupting out of a fissure every now and again with the sort of power that is equivalent to a dozen or so Hollywood romantic movie finales all at once.
I can only assume the video is representative of the support that his ‘Glókolla’ afforded him, as he at first staggers, as the wounded town does, almost out on its feet, and then they intertwine around a forest – symbolising regeneration and the future, I guess – the likes of which I’ve never seen in Iceland.
But it isn’t just her. She stands for the country as well, as it rallied in support of a town disappearing into a fiery crevice, in the full knowledge, I’m certain, that it could happen to any of them next.
It’s a clever use of four minutes of cinematography, too. Notice how at 1:02 she steps behind a tree and emerges as him. That’s sweetly symbolic.
And speaking of symbolism Gisli held a release concert for the album on 8th November at the main church in Grindavík as part of the Iceland Airwaves festival. That must have been something to behold.
Find him on:
Website: https://www.gisligunnarsson.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/gisligunnars/
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/totallynotgisli/
Bandcamp: https://gisligunnarsson.bandcamp.com/
Videography & Editing: Nicolas Ipiña
Dancer 1: Gabriel Marling Rideout
Dancer 2: Sara Lind Guðnadóttir