In the work of Swiss artist Andrina Bollinger, avant-pop, jazz, poetry, and performance art collapse into a multisensory maze. Initially trained in jazz but unbound by genre, her music is rich with nuance – a sonic memoir woven from fragmented narratives, field recordings, and emotionally textured topographies. Inspired by her Engadin roots and artists like Julia Holter, Björk or L’Rain, Bollinger’s live shows feel like lucid dreams: She’s maneuvering between instruments, pushing her band into moments of charged instability. It’s an orchestrated, improvisatory free fall. 

Identity does not mean being one and the same, but several at the same time. Angola and Switzerland at the same time. Flying and falling at the same time. With his music, Dino makes heads swirl and the splinters of his identity fly high. With a choir, Dino Brandão remains a cancioneiro. He spreads out the small map of the pop music world in shifting proportions. He has an eye for baroque, ornamentation and old percussion, plays on foggy synthesisers and kicks his drum machine, dancing on the broken pieces. Delightfully tangled in all directions, Dino Brandão can be all this without losing himself, whirling on the shards of his reflection.