1989 | DI VOLTA | vib , mar , pno  6’45’’
Di volta came about as a study on certain compositional methods, in particular on the relation between rhythm and harmony, coincidence and determinism, and gradually became a concert piece with a certain dramatic development. It has been performed only once, at the UNM Festival in Helsinki 1990. At that occasion my programme notes enjoyed at least as much success as the piece: “Di volta was composed in the autumn of 1989. Its idea is a simple chain of notes which gives rise to a chain of chords which generate a chain of events which, if time were slightly more curved, could be made into a necklace for Mrs. Naught,hoping, I do hope she will forgive me for betraying her.
The title has many implications and is quite untranslatable. Read backwards however it says “atlovid”, which is utter nonsense”.

1992 | DUBBLETTER | cl , vc , pno  9’
Dubbletter was composed by commission from Svenska Rikskonserterna in Stockholm for the Kaldalons Trio. The instruments explore diverse ways of playing together: distant and separate, distant but synchronous, close and synchronous, close and separate etc. All this happens on the surface while underneath there is a firm framework of vertical and horisontal pairs of notes that determines the function of all events.
main performances
Härnösand, Stockholm and Växjö, March 1992 (Ingolfsson, Kornblueh, Birgisson)
Njardvik, August 16, 1992 (same)
Reykjavík, October 4, 1992 (same)
Bergen, June, 2000 (Smith, Heim, Clapperton): The Music Factory Festival

Båstad, June 27, 2003

This is simply an arrangement of the two part invention, done as a respectful analysis with exclamation marks here and there. I have prepared but not executed a couple of other such arrangements.

1992 | MUSUBI | tpt , vib (mar) , pno 9’30’’
It is possible to tie a knot on a thread, a reed stalk or some other such material, that will trap a guardian imp and prevent him from leaving his master. If a musical composition is knit together in the right way, one can catch an imp which then forever kicks about in its web. Musubi is based on a net of tones in which many kinds of knots have been tied, in the hope that life will quicken in it. The title of the work alludes to ancient Japanese belief in the power of knots. The work was commissioned by Michio Nakajima of the Mirkk Art Forum in Tokyo
main performances
Reykjavík, February 7. 1993 (The Ymir Ensemble)
Amsterdam (same)
Tokyo (same)

1997 | DONEC VESPER | 3 percussionists
Player I: Large tambourine on table (ca. 35 cm), Suspended cabaza (or medium maraca), Medium tam-tam (ca. 60 cm) prepared with a bathtub chain or similar hanging from the support and rattling against the shield, Wood block, Tenor drum, Cowbell (e’’), Vibraphone (+bow)
Player II: snare drum, suspended large maraca (or goat-hoofs), hi-hat with tambourine frame (small) on top
temple block (b flat’), gong (b flat), marimba (from c to c’’’’), wrist rattlers on both wrists throughout the piece: choose very small and delicate bells.
Player III: medium tom-tom with tambourine on top, suspended small maraca, sizzle cymbal, brake drum, small log drum, vibraphone (+bow)
While I was preparing my piece for Sisu, my friend Sigfus Dadason (1928-1996) passed away. Since I was planning a short piece which represented a passage from white noise through rhythm to harmony (from object through speech to meaning) I found it particularly appropriate as a homage to the memory of this singular poet. I beleive the circumstances did influence my writing - the piece took on some attributes of ritual music - although it need not be taken as an epitaph.
The title, 'Donec Vesper', comes from the sixth of Virgils eclogues. It literally means 'till Vesper' (the evening star), remembering how the heardsman keeps on singing till the evening star comes and stops him.
The score furthermore bears a quotation from one of Dadasons poems, which roughly translated goes: "Actually, there is no mention of this on the wall"
As concerns the general style of the piece, it is in line with my recent work on the interrelation between rhythm and harmony, although here, due to the duration and character of this piece, they are expressed in more straightforward terms than in most of my other pieces.
Main performances
Harstad, Norway, October 1997 (SISU Percussion Trio)
Reykjavík, May 2001 (Oosterhout, Gretarsson, Palsson)

2002 | TRUST ME | cl , vla , pno 10’
Trust me was written on commission from Svenska Rikskonserter for the Obscura Trio. I seem to be moving away from the traditional conception of chamber music as a subtle formal- and contrapuntal construction, preferring to look at the form just as a sort of song. This means that my form tends to be more simple and the writing perhaps more rude or straightforward. This probably shows in Trust me. As many of my recent works it is built on a stable rhythmical background which is focused in different ways during the piece, and only occasionally is challenged. Likewise, the harmony is actually very foreseeable, but varying in density.
Main performances
Stockholm April 23, 2002
Halmstad May 3 2002
Ronneby May 5 2002
Göteorg August 1, 2002
Linköping August 15, 2002
Skinnskatteberg February 1 2003
Västerås February 2 2003

2006 | COMPOSITION sax , acc , cb 45'
I have generally chosen to discard the problem of sincerity in art, or rather to confine it to a statement such as: "The work itself has a way of being sincere. The author cannot be totally sincere." This is quite a complex matter if we begin thinking of it, especially in regard to such a highly formalized genre as written music is, and especially today in the presence of a myriad of different idioms. I guess that somehow, for each work, we create an author, and that he in some bizarre way could claim to be sincere (if he were real...). But what happens when I put different works together and partly alter their original intentions, when I begin remixing, deviating or mocking the originals? Well, in my case it's a totally natural operation. Already as a child when I burst into tears I was capable of looking into the mirror and making a funny face. I guess I was composing myself, since the word composition simply refers to putting something together and I put a funny face on top of a crying one. However that might be, here we have a cycle by the name of Composition: three solo pieces that may be said to reflect my attitude towards the art of musical composition. We get form and its opposite, placed side by side, in a composition of compositions. Hopefully the totality breeds on the energy released by the friction between its components, and by the friction between them and supposed - , real - , make-believe- , impossible – or violent sincerity. 

The Poing trio was a tremendous source of inspiration for the completion of this work. It is dedicated to the trio. 
main performances
Oslo, Reykjavik, Huddersfield, Trondheim, autumn 2006

for recorder, violin and accordeon
This piece was written on commission from the Gaman trio for their Nordic tour in 2008 and 2009.

Forgotten Step may be seen as the attempt to remember an imaginary dance step long forgotten.  One may try different methods to approach it: will it be the rhythm, the melody or maybe the sound or the character which will finally enable you to recall the step?  Once in a while you concentrate on one aspect, seeming you are just about to get it, but then you don't really get on.  Finally it turns out that maybe it wasn't really the dance itself that haunted you but the context and you start concentrating as much on the colour as on the step.  Exactly how all this ends is up to the listener to judge.