Ragnar Kestis - Vatnaljóð (2021)

Vatnaljóð began as an exploration of all the peculiar ways water gains and loses different sound qualities due to changes in temperature, volume, what container it's in and so on. The very first impulse and the basis for it actually came from finding out that humans are able to pick up on the difference between hot and cold water being poured. That got me thinking about how you could use water in different contexts to craft a story of sorts, something that might also work on a subconscious level.

Over the course of nearly three years, this release has also effected a change in my approach to making music: from a somewhat kid-in-a-sandbox attitude to a more focused and detail-oriented effort. Water became a key element of this release, but so did deliberation and persistence. I'd enjoyed creating things with abandon for a long time, not caring too much about really pushing myself to work out all the kinks or zero in on the details. And I don't think there's anything inherently wrong with that, it just felt like it was time to try something different.

As I continued working, I found this common ground between these elemental and mental (I feel very smart for thinking of this wordplay) facets of the composition: stoicism. I've practiced it for a few years now, and I eventually realized that one thing that helps me is to think about my reactions and feelings as though they were water; something I can redirect (if I choose and want to do so) but also get pummeled by if I'm not careful. And this is mostly what the structure of this composition reminds me of.

Going hand in hand with the change in my approach is also the decision to not release under my previous moniker, Izanasz. It's a decision I'm not making lightly, but ultimately, I feel like Izanasz has run its course (at least for now). The summer of 2020 also saw me change my legal name to Ragnar Kestis, something I'd wanted to do for many years (and for many reasons), and while I don't think I'm a new person or generally make a big deal out of it, I do feel like my name now represents me both me as a person and as an artist.

Even before its release, I'd made some nice connections to this album: one of my closest friends providing the cover photo; capturing some bizarre field recordings in Italy that were later used throughout the composition; or having a coworker-turned-friend and her boyfriend listen to the album on an LSD trip. One of the most curious and most fundamental experiences tied to this album goes back to a concert I played in 2019 when I recreated the composition live, using the same pieces it had been previously composed of in new, spontaneous ways. Vatnaljóð really hasn't changed in any major way since then, and comparing it to what it sounded like before is quite amusing since they're two very different experiences. However, it does kind of make perfect sense that a release based on such an organic element would also take its final form organically.

Vatnaljóð is a continuous piece chopped up into nine individual tracks. The name, as well as the track titles, are in Icelandic. I'm deliberately excluding any form of translation; I believe that there is a bit of magic in approaching something that's written in a language you don't speak, and I also think that anyone curious enough to know what the titles mean will find out on their own. At first, I considered using my own constructed language for the track titles (thus making it impossible for anyone to ever know), but I just felt like Icelandic was the perfect choice. It makes sense to me in a very natural way (even though I'm not fluent), I find it magical, and I would also like this release to be somehow grounded in reality.