Björk's staggering 'Cornucopia' reinvents what's possible in live performance

Björk: Cornucopia (Thursday 9 and Sunday 12 March 2023), Perth Festival

All images by Santiago Felipe

This of course naturally appealed to the Icelandic singer-songwriter-producer/nature enthusiast; to house the shiniest jewel in the festival’s crown, a purpose-built, 5,000-capacity pavilion has been erected in Langley Park and a pre-event email recommends, “Please avoid wearing high heels to protect the grass”.

As we locate our seats, curious chirruping-critter noises – pulled from Utopia’s title track – swirl around us in surround sound. Cornucopia brings Björk’s 2017 album, Utopia – with its sound world of flutes, birdsong, choir and beats – to kaleidoscopic life. Björk also revealed via a recent Facebook post – typed in (her trademark) all lowercase: “the idea of cornucopia was always that it would be a house to include songs from my next album too, so I'm really excited to keep adding new songs (and clarinets!).”

Accordingly, audiences at Björk’s four Cornucopia shows are treated to world-premiere performances of a pair of songs from her astonishing latest Fossora record: Ovule and Atopos.

A smattering of other highlights from Björk’s expansive back catalogue are also sprinkled throughout Cornucopia’s Utopia-heavy setlist. One of many standout moments is Isobel (from 1995’s Post record), which switches-out strings for flutes in a thrilling, reimagined arrangement that incorporates layered voices, acoustic instruments and electronic elements. Hidden Place (from 2001’s Vespertine) – during which Björk is backed by local Perth choir, Voyces – is given a reverent, choral treatment. And one of Björk’s songs about breastfeeding, Mouth’s Cradle (from 2004’s Medúlla – her a cappella record) is enlivened by frenetic percussion.

“And I care for you, care for you…” – the first of many times that Björk’s repeated lyrical phrases resonate throughout these performances, The Gate opens proceedings following Viibra’s Cornucopia prelude. Her rolled ‘r’s and overemphasised, almost spat-out, occasional lyrical f-bombs – so (adorably) Björk! – further endear her to us.

Björk’s phenomenal podcast, Sonic Symbolism, contains a whole episode devoted to Utopia. Here she compares the Paris Climate Accords to utopia. Björk has also said Cornucopia “is a lot about females supporting each other” and has assembled predominantly female musicians for this project. As Pagan Poetry morphs into Losss, bookending the beginning and end of a romantic relationship, we notice the harp arrangements, perfectly executed by Katie Buckley, are complementary.

The Cornucopia experience is punctuated by a series of 'aha' moments, with some of Utopia’s themes – such as mutant energy, and women and children surviving violence – hitting harder in this live setting thanks to Tobias Gremmler’s game-changing visuals. Having now experienced each song’s emotional, all-encompassing, impossibly high-definition visual landscape, our future listening experiences will be forever heightened.

There’s zero ‘banter’ throughout Cornucopia – except for when Björk introduces the musicians, then says, “Thanks for tonight,” towards the end of the show – and we remain totally immersed in these vibrant, mercurial audiovisual worlds, suspending disbelief until her empowering closing mantra (from Tabula Rasa): “You are strong/ You are strong/ You are strong…”

Cornucopia reinvents the scope of what's possible in performance on so many levels, including visuals being triggered by sounds produced live on stage. Across the course of her career, Björk has typically used instruments more like characters to create music that gets under your skin. Her songs chart super-emotional terrain and sometimes dredge up difficult personal memories. Tears glimmer on many cheeks as we exit the tent; a collective of broken humans with hope in our hearts and aspirations to do better.

In fine Voyce

While introducing her band at Cornucopia’s conclusion, Björk points out she’s sharing her stage with more musicians from Perth than her motherland, Iceland.

Conducted by Dr Robert Braham, whose right arm is in a sling, Voyces is an 18-piece choir from Perth. Dressed all in white, but also given the freedom to express their identities through farshun within this hue, Voyces set an otherworldly tone while opening proceedings singing complex choral arrangements of Björk’s Sonnets/Unrealities XI and Cosmogony, a cappella.

Voyces also materialise within Cornucopia, their voices like shimmering gossamer cradling Blissing Me and the spectral Hidden Place. We notice only the female-identifying members of Voyces accompany Björk during Cornucopia’s finale, Tabula Rasa, which lands gently to deliver a message of hope: “Let’s clean up/ Break the chain of the f-ck-ups of the fathers/ It is time/ For us women to rise, and not just take it lying down… The world is listening.”

Flutes rock

Where to begin with this Icelandic flute septet? Arguably as much a part of Cornucopia as Björk herself, these musicians also execute continuous choreographed movement around the stage; sometimes tracing arcs in the air with their woodwind instruments, in canon, while flowers bloom in the surrounding visuals.

Viibra also cut sick while freestyle dancing, displaying varying degrees of enthusiasm/levels of coordination. Each ensemble member embraces their own distinctive style – not dancing in perfect unison by any means – and this celebration of individuality perfectly suits the population of Björk’s Cornucopia.

Side note: We’re actually spewing Viibra’s Balmain-designed stage outfits – some of which incorporate faun-inspired, fluffy pants – aren’t available for purchase at the merch tent.

Visuals that move

Under Argentinian filmmaker Lucrecia Martel’s direction, Glemmler’s media scenography is projected onto curtains of ropes as well as screens, which makes audience members feel like they’ve been swallowed by a living, breathing, pulsing organism.

Björk’s elfin features make her avatars immediately recognisable within many of Cornucopia’s captivating visual worlds, where human forms undulate and mutate – growing and shedding scales, quills and spiky spines.

Singing into blizzards

During her Sonic Symbolism podcast, Björk revealed that while walking to and from school – 40 minutes each way and sometimes through a blizzard – she often found “comfort” through singing loudly. “I mean, obviously it was very scary for an eight-year-old,” she points out in episode one, “and I remember moments where I was terrified – just alone, like me against the elements… I think I started to sing as a companion… It was my survival mechanism that I had.”

Throughout Cornucopia, this image of Björk singing into the storm, fortissimo, wafts in and out of our brainbox. We’re particularly reminded of this evocative image during Body Memory’s opening lyrics: “First snow of Winter/ I’m walking hills and valleys/ Adore this mystical fog/ This f-cking mist/ These cliffs are just showing off…”

She wears a mask

Björk’s mask-maker of choice since 2011, James Merry ,transforms Björk – who rocks a different ensemble for each of these four shows: Maison Rabih Karouz (Saturday), Rahul Mishra (Monday), Australia’s own Romance was Born (Thursday) and Julia Heuer (Sunday) – into a mythological creature. And Björk’s band wear Balmain creations, integral to Cornucopia’s overall aesthetic and continuity.

Bespoke instruments

A circle flute is lowered from the ceiling, enclosing Björk. Four members of Viibra then take a seat – evenly dispersed – around these conjoined flutes to perform Body Memory. Members of Viibra also manipulate what resemble vacuum-cleaner hoses to create mysterious whirring throughout Features Creatures.

Other Cornucopia instrumentation includes a full-body echo chamber and a magnetic harp. And when Austrian percussionist Manu Delago wheels a large tank filled with water, and bowls, out onto the stage – drumming on the bowls and also pouring water from them, which is picked up by mics – we're in awe of the innovation, but also thankful we visited the bathroom just prior to showtime.

“Pull the emergency brake”

Nature, healing and regeneration are recurring themes throughout Cornucopia, as is our connection to land and shared responsibility to preserve natural resources for future generations before it’s too late. After the main set, a projection of Greta Thunberg delivering her youth summit speech – recorded four years ago, when the Swedish climate activist was 16 – illuminates the string curtains.

We’re struck by how little has changed. Her pleas for world leaders to “pull the emergency brake” on the climate crisis, “leave fossil fuels in the ground,” and “focus on equity” hit especially hard here, in the mining state that is WA – bet that wasn't highlighted in Perth Festival’s pitch!

Fun fact: Thunberg and Björk’s daughter, actress Ísadóra Barney, are roughly the same age.

The Artist’s request

“At the Artist’s request, please refrain from taking photographs or recording images. This is distracting to Björk, and she would encourage you to please enjoy being part of the performance and not preoccupied with recording it” – Amen! More of this, please!

We witnessed exactly no one taking sneaky mid-show shots during the two performances attended, although an opening-night attendee admitted to holding her phone close to her chest to film covertly.