AGF aka poemproducer
by Antye Greie-Ripatti
'was I right TO come HERE'
AGF aka Antye Greie-Ripatti a sound artist and electronic music producer. Her work inhabits an augmented space where pounding {Berlin} experimental after-techno, spoken word, abstract video art, feminism and radical ecology create a self-sustaining environment. Originally from East Germany, she started to develop a DIY approach early on, while also using her voice to fight against oppression by supporting marginalized communities and calling out injustice, most recently through female:pressure, a support community and promotional platform for female-identified electronic musicians. Currently based in Northern Finland, Antye founded the local arts organization Hai Art in Hailuoto. Since its inception in 2011, Hai Art has been involved in numerous sound-related projects, focusing on working with children. Antye acts as its director, curator and workshop instructor. Active since the early 90's, she has collaborated with strong names in electronic music such as French pioneer Eliane Radigue, German legends Gudrun Gut and Ellen Allien, British avantgardist Kaffe Matthews, Finnish IDM treasure Vladislav Delay and classical composer Craig Armstrong.
Фото: Aino Väänänen
AGF, was I right TO come HERE, 2022
all sound made of my voice and my body walking on ice in Hailuoto Finland, shore, in a mild storm

the project is in line with current readings and listening
to [for example] Yunkaporta, Haraway but also
critical assessments of socialist histories...
and where to go, perhaps together?
how does it sound ? how is it communicated and vocalised...
and maybe make language or non-language that can't be coopted!

I am thinking through local histories here in the pre-arctic island Hailuoto,
where I am based, where I am walking and recording from.

I would like to record a video
but can't be sure to succeed also due to weather

I've been dealing with a storm
kind of as an event and also thinking
of it as voices / terrestrial voices...
I am recording the winds, breath, body
in a sparse landscape, the reed

so if I follow the storm and wind paths to be able to catch it


'was I right TO come HERE'

[winds as context - frozen lines in oceans]

with very low frequencies
the storm uncovers
layers upon layers
never the same twice

melodies in lines
the landscape is flat
a bay at bay
rebounding landscapes

if people were annihilated
on "murder friday"
are the new people
new layers to the land

life was burned
even the un-effected
under constant attack
until erased
by disregard of space for kin

was I right to come here?

what does it mean
to stay with the trouble
when trouble is frozen
melted - greened
ripened - rotten
and forgotten

I am singing in layers
corresponding to wavelengths
non-language melodies
a stranger on minimal ground

do I have the right to tell this story
an obsolete metric unit equal beauty
lines like scores along the
frozen shore lines

a poet asking for permission
to speak the language that travels
the potential of the small with
underground relation

just to laugh or shout
a body has to coordinate about 100 different muscles
within a single breath

a body is a body

the storm is the storm, multi storm

how long is one a stranger
on the land that one is walking, tending and listening to

how loud is the worst
that happened compared to all the silences

was I right to come here?