Have you ever spoken to a freeform jazz musician about their classically-trained counterparts? Don’t ever be fooled by the stereotype. In the head of this conceptual jazzman, the classically-trained are those in whom no ingenuity, no desire to experiment and no adventurous temperament dwell. This is an unfair generalization. I’m sure there are many of the classical school who find it difficult to inject their own emotion into a piece, as there are many authors who fail to find their own ‘voice’ amidst those of their predecessors, but I believe I’ve found that little bit of weight to tip the scales my way in this diatribe: a quiet, unassuming quartet of young, Icelandic women, who call themselves Amiina.

Talking to Edda Rún Ólafsdóttir from the group, the ‘quiet’ and ‘unassuming’ tags are most apt: not saying a great deal, she is a charming and understated artist who, when you finally find a way through, reveals a rather deep passion for her music. Her responses are initially as matter-of-fact and concise as you could imagine: when asked where the group met, Edda answers: “when we were learning music at school.” She doesn’t feel the need to expand on this. This may give an accurate idea of where the group met, and where their origins are, but maybe, just maybe, I need a little more. This desire is somewhat sated immediately: “I play the viola and other assorted instruments,” Edda quietly says in response to another rather drab question from a nervous interviewer. That term – ‘assorted instruments’ – allows us a tiny insight into the workings of Amiina. Known for their vast array of instrumental experimentation, Edda and her bandmates – Hildur Ársælsdóttir, Maria Huld Markan Sigfúsdóttir and Sólrún Sumarliðadóttir – play, along with the traditional elements of a string-quartet, a variety of instruments ranging from the conventional (piano, guitar) to the rather left-of-field (musical saw, ‘glass harp’), often switching between such instruments through the course of an individual song.

The group has found its initial recognition through association: it may be harsh, but it’s undeniably true. Just like Phoenix were to Air, or Alfie to Badly Drawn Boy, Amiina’s reputation has grown through their spot as backing musicians to a larger act, Sigur Ros: the sublime string parts on the albums ( ) and Takk.. are highlights, and these four women are the brains and talent behind them. Whilst admitting Amiina’s humble status in their own country – “we actually haven’t been played much in Iceland” – Edda talks up the influence that the group’s relationship with Sigur Ros has had: “We’ve been working with them for seven years… one of us is married to one of them.” Mixing pleasure with business is something that musicians always fail to comprehend as somewhat dangerous, but this marriage has produced, if not a few tiny Icelandic babies, some terrifically beautiful and engaging music. Although touring with Sigur Ros has given birth to bourgeoning worldwide fan-base for the band, the women of Amiina found it hard to create their own music through the hectic touring schedule: “it took a long time to make the album because we were touring with Sigur Ros. We had a day off, then we tried to write and record a song… so it took a while, waiting for the days off.”

The atmosphere of recording is a confronting one for most bands. Amiina, like most, began as primarily a live act, and only recently began recording their self-penned numbers, but they seem to have found themselves ‘in their element’: “it’s liberating to go into a studio. On stage we’re limited to four so can’t do everything we want to do; it’s fun layering things and crafting the songs.” For a group whose music is so inextricable from the concept of experimentation, the recording process is an apt method for them to develop their sound, and a perfect situation for them to make music in accordance with their own ideals.

Amiina view music as somewhat malleable: they use musical instruments from all over the world, and often sounds that one would not normally associate with live or recorded pop music (the music saw is a mainstay, and a music box makes an occasional appearance). In Ari Alexander’s recent documentary, Screaming Masterpiece (2005), we were given an insight into Iceland’s music scene, and a brief look at Amiina themselves. In the film, the band voiced the sentiment that music was not something purely for musicians, as they embraced use of “everyday sounds” in their live shows and recordings. Perhaps this was born out of an overriding desire to experiment with different ‘sounds’, thus altering their perception of music, and expanding on their musical bases of baroque and classical compositions. “We’re hooked on collecting instruments,” Edda explains, “we want some particular sound, so we go out and look for something that makes that sound.” 

Based in sounds recognized both from their musical education and their everyday lives, Amiina’s music is as much an aural experience as one evocative of imagery and other sensual experience: “Our music is inspired by imagery and pictures… sometimes when you’re writing you make up stories to go with the music.” Whether they experiment further with this, venturing into the realm of film soundtracks and the like, Edda is unsure, but definitely open-minded: “I think our music is suited to visual things.”

For the moment, however, Amiina are happy to be within the confines of the band, but there’s a sense that playing with Sigur Ros has given them some sort of a feel for a musical community: “Right now we are working on staying just the 4 of us, but obviously we do like playing with many different bands with different sounds. We like to help out.” Testing themselves is the ultimate aim at the moment however; they’re branching out, stretching their own talents rather than relying on those of others. Amiina are now a group in their own right, no longer merely ‘Sigur Ros’ string section’. With the release of the eagerly-awaited Kurr, their debut album, the ready-made cult of fans is steadily growing, and the only certainty, apart from critical acclaim, is that these four sweet and unassuming young women will charm into submission anyone who is caught up in their beautiful, evocative and adventurous soundscapes. The pure emotive, atmospheric energy created by Amiina belies the common misunderstanding surrounding classical musicians: they are as captivating and as original as anything you will hear.