Swedish electroacoustic composer Hanna Hartman gifts us with four new pieces in a CD that is as short in duration – just over 28 minutes – as full of intriguing sonic successions. For the large part of the music, silence is an important factor as it’s from those long pauses that the events take form and invade the listening field with their raw power, furnishing Hartman’s creations with a distinct trait of personality. Most of these occurrences derive from natural or biotic sources like in “Wespen Vesper”, vocal snippets and insects rhythmically interspersed over a foundation of long-distance forestal ambiences, whales and prayers. A little more explosive is “Plåtmås”, where sudden outburst and clamorous eruptions are decorated with fragments of a seagull’s shriek. Contrarily to what happens in the work of many sound artists active in the acousmatic area, who seem to privilege treatment as opposed to the inherent value of a recorded sound, Hartman is genuinely interested in the “voice of everyday”, often mixing sacred and profane, ethereal and mundane (the chickens in “Musik För Dansstycket Jag Glömmer Bort” are just delightful), always giving her ideas the necessary time to grow into something that is more the picture of concrete phenomena than a sheer documentation of a studio process.