Name: Kjetil Jerve

Nationality: Norwegian
Occupation: Pianist, composer, improviser
Current release: Kjetil Jerve's solo release The Soundtrack of My Home has just been released on vinyl on Dugnad. Also available: His duo release Tokyo Tapes: Piano Recycle with Stian Balducci. And a new full-length, Sacrum Profanum via Nakama, with his quartet Akmee composed of Andreas Wildhagen (drums), Erik Kimestad Pedersen (trumpet), and Erlend Olderskog Albertsen (bass).

If you enjoyed this interview with Kjetil Jerve and would like to find out more about his work, visit his official website. He is also on Instagram, Facebook, Soundcloud, and twitter.



Where does the impulse to create something come from for you? What role do often-quoted sources of inspiration, like dreams, other art forms, personal relationships, politics, etc., play?

I often experience a surge of creativity when doing other activities like cleaning or walking. An idea pops into me and starts churning in my ears. The ideas come from some associations because they also appear during conversations and interactions with other humans.

The impulses come out in different forms, sometimes as concrete musical motives, other times as more general concepts. I’m easily influenced by outside sources, like when my friend Bendik Baksaas asked me to put up more piano videos on my Instagram, which then ended up in adding new music almost every day for two years.

This process ended in my solo album, The Soundtrack of My Home.
 
For you to start, do there need to be concrete ideas – or what some have called a 'visualization' of the finished work? What does the balance between planning and chance look like for you?

I enjoy “planning for chance” in this regard.

For example, for my piece called ‘Kjetil’, I already knew I wanted to compose something containing two hand movements going in different rhythms and tones that complement each other.



Then I find a few additional notes that will work as variations to the static theme to create proportions in the form. When I started recording, I didn’t know exactly where and how often these variations should occur, which required my improvising to take care of that critical aspect.
 
Is there a preparation phase for your process? Would you like your tools to be laid out in a particular way? For example, do you need to do 'research' or create 'early versions'?

The recording is a vital aspect of my creative process. Being away from the keyboard too often makes me thirsty to listen back to ideas, jams and sketches.

I almost always use different playback speeds and pitches to “reset” my ears from the sound and memory of playing it myself. While I still remember the act of playing, my senses get a bit taken off guard by changing the frequencies of my recordings.
 
Do you have specific rituals to get you into the right mindset for creating? What role do certain foods or stimulants like coffee, lighting, scents, exercise or reading poetry play?

If I am physically able, I always try to jump for the first opportunity to flesh out an idea once it appears.

The preparation is then more about having the equipment ready for play.
 
What do you start with? How difficult is that first line of text, the first note?

If there is no clear idea, I tend to spend time on some technical practice until the inspiration arrives.

If the situation requires me to come up with something, I need to avoid the piano keys and listen inwards until a theme surfaces, using my voice instead to convey the frequencies.
 
Once you've started, how does the work gradually emerge?

Combining all of the abovementioned processes is simply a matter of time until the material has matured enough.

Once I clearly feel how the final result might sound, I fantasize about titles, designs and release plans.
 
Many writers have claimed that certain aspects of the narrative are out of their hands as soon as they enter the process. Do you like to keep strict control over the process, or is there a sense of following things where they lead you?

I relate to the old saying about the journey being the goal. I constantly feel in some progress and development, and as I mature, I experience the present differently, including my view of the past and the future.

This way, my creativity is as much influenced or controlled from the outside as from the inside.
 
While writing, new ideas and alternative roads often open themselves up, pulling and pushing the creator in a different direction. Does this happen to you, too, and how do you deal with it? What do you do with these ideas?

I tend to treat new and capricious ideas with the same interest as old and thought-through ones.

Sometimes this makes me lost on the way, but I usually find something worthwhile when trying to get back on track.
 
There are many descriptions of the creative state. How would you describe it for yourself? Is there an element of spirituality to what you do?

My life experience so far makes me sure that the material and measurable part of our Universe only represents a fraction of its totality. It is intuitively and logically resonating that we are parts of a creation. This affects my reasoning and presence in all aspects.
 
Especially in the digital age, the writing and production process tends toward the infinite. What marks the end of the process? How do you finish a work?

I like to witness the duality between yoga and tantra, the way of the warrior versus the course of the instant flick switch. Both halves are always in effect, but my human sense focuses on one at a time.

For example, the grinding on a project for ages until suddenly a eureka moment appears. These states are opposites yet integral to each other.
 
Once a piece is finished, how important is it for you to let it lie and evaluate it later on? How much improvement and refinement do you allow until you're satisfied with a piece? What does this process look like in practice?

Each piece can be finished several times. Some finishes are more finite than others, like the publishing of an album.

But the process isn’t over, and any particle of a finalized product can, and many will be, spill over towards future compositions.

What's your take on the role and importance of production, including mixing and mastering, for you? How involved do you get in this?

This is a highly social part of my work, where I genuinely enjoy learning from other artists and technicians I have known and collaborated with for years.

A good example is my brother, Espen Jerve, who did the mixing of The Soundtrack of My Home, and is working on my next solo album.

Involving myself in the different disciplines of modern music production teaches me many essential skills that mutually benefit the community.  
 
After finishing a piece or album and releasing something into the world, there can be a sense of emptiness. Can you relate to this – and how do you return to the state of creativity after experiencing it?

The most apparent instance of anti-climax is how little impact all the publishing and promotion work can have. The commercial hyper-focus of the corporate music industry has made it nearly impossible to access mainstream channels with anything that isn’t meant to sell populist products or politics.

This adverse situation for the arts has made me care less about the initial PR success and more about fulfilling a creative process and moving onward to the following musical projects. I believe the underground scenes are the future of actual aesthetic work.
 
Creativity can reach many different corners of our lives. Do you feel writing a piece of music inherently differs from making a great cup of coffee? What do you express through music that you couldn't or wouldn't in more 'mundane' tasks?
 
Music-making is quite abstract in the connection between fantasy and reality. I can’t pinpoint how frequencies correspond to feelings. Maybe it’s similar to how I cook in the kitchen, where I can’t quickly tell what urges me to choose certain ingredients and techniques. But the ideas always appear from somewhere, as long as I feel balanced and grounded.

The context and surroundings inevitably inform and inspire in more ways than I can imagine.