Kullervo by Aulis Sallinen: A Nordic Opera That’ll Leave You Thinking, “Wait, What Just Happened?”
Alright, buckle up, because this one’s a wild ride through icy Scandinavian vibes and operatic drama that feels like someone mashed up a Viking saga with your weird uncle’s storytelling. Released in 1992 (yes, the same year grunge was busy ruining hair metal), Kullervo is an opera in two acts by Finnish composer Aulis Sallinen. Label? Ondine. Players? Some absolute legends: Jorma Hynninen on baritone vocals, Matti Salminen rocking the bass, Ulf Söderblom waving his conductor baton like it’s a lightsaber, and the Finnish National Opera Orchestra & Chorus doing their thing.
Now, let me tell you why this album sticks to your brain like gum on a hot day.
First off, can we talk about how Kullervo itself—the titular track/opera—is basically a Nordic fever dream? It’s based on the Kalevala, Finland’s national epic, which is chock-full of tragic heroes, cursed swords, and family drama so intense it makes soap operas look tame. Right out of the gate, Jorma Hynninen as Kullervo grabs you by the ears and doesn’t let go. His voice has this raw, gravelly edge that screams, “I’ve got baggage, and I’m not afraid to use it!” The whole thing builds into these massive orchestral swells that feel like you’re standing on a cliff while a storm rolls in. It’s dramatic, it’s brooding, and honestly? It’s kind of exhausting—but in the best way possible.
Then there’s the chorus work, especially in Act II—oh man, does it slap. Picture this: fifty Finns belting their lungs out about betrayal, revenge, and accidental incest (yep, you read that right). If you’re not clutching your chest by the end, are you even alive? Matti Salminen’s bass adds this dark, rumbling undertone that feels like the earth itself is groaning under the weight of all the tragedy. There’s something hilariously over-the-top about it, but also deeply moving. Like, sure, Kullervo screws up royally and everything falls apart, but dang if it doesn’t sound beautiful while doing so.
What really gets me, though, is how Sallinen uses dissonance and rhythm to keep you on edge. One moment you’re floating along on lush strings, and the next BAM—you’re hit with brass so sharp it could cut glass. It’s unpredictable, kinda chaotic, and yet somehow still cohesive. Kinda like life, huh?
So here’s the kicker: after listening to Kullervo, you might find yourself googling obscure Finnish mythology at 2 AM, wondering whether buying a sword from a shady woodsman is ever a good idea. Or maybe you’ll just sit there thinking, “Wow, what a mess.” But hey, isn’t that what great art’s supposed to do? Make you feel things, ask questions, and possibly question your life choices?
Final thought: If this opera were a person, it’d be that moody friend who always wears black, quotes Nietzsche, and somehow still manages to be the life of the party. Weirdly compelling, totally unforgettable, and slightly pretentious—but in a way that works. Give it a spin if you’re ready for an emotional rollercoaster wrapped in frostbitten Nordic charm.
