Music for a performance by Roshanak Morrowatian
1. Humming
2. House of Strength
3. Andelis
4. Choreo
5. Arise (with Reza Mirabi)
6. Reza's Solo
7. Vain's Solo
8. Voorbij (with Sjaan Flikweert)
9. Scatter (outtake)
10. Lori Line (outtake)
cd/dl/stream on Fonodroom, November 2025
Order here
After Kites, Sister, and Mask, House of Strength marked the fourth collaboration between choreographer/dancer Roshanak Morrowatian and composer Rutger Zuydervelt. The performance — and, by extension, the music — has a strong ritualistic quality and can be seen as an inclusive celebration of both spiritual and physical strength.
Drawing inspiration from traditional Iranian percussion as well as contemporary club music, the score bridges old and new worlds, shifting between high-energy beats, brooding soundscapes, and glitchy abstractions.
In addition to sampling the performers as a choir (recorded during rehearsals), two tracks feature distinct guest contributions: Reza Mirabi's overtone vocals on 'Arise' and Sjaan Flikweert's spoken word on 'Voorbij.'
The set closes with a pair of tracks that didn't appear in the live performance but are well worth hearing. The album’s conclusion uplifts the spirit—making it hard to resist pressing play again.
Reviews
Subjectivisten
Nu is er alweer een nieuwe soundtrack House Of Strength, wat na Kites, Sister en Mask het vierde samenwerkingsverband tussen Rutger Zuydervelt en choreograaf/danser Roshanak Morrowatia is. Deze performance heeft een sterk ritueel en tribaal karakter en heeft Zuydervelt ook vertaald naar de muziek. Niet eerder klonk zijn muziek zo werelds, hetgeen zich dan nog altijd afspeelt binnen de typerende, sterke elektronische kaders. Maar er zijn wel meer percussieritmes, die zich een weg banen door ambientachtige en experimentele muzikale landschappen. Hij gebruikt samples van stemmen, maar er wordt ook één keer gezongen door Reza Mirabi en een gedicht voorgedragen door Sjaan Flikweert. De muziek is geïnspireerd door traditionele Iraanse percussie en hedendaagse clubmuziek en slaat op verbluffende wijze bruggen tussen oude en nieuwe werelden, waarbij het toegankelijke met het abstract wordt afgewisseld; je hoort de klanken van de darboeka en doumbek door de elektronische texturen, hetgeen werkelijk schitterend uitpakt. Zo langzamerhand begin ik te geloven dat Zuydervelt als kind in een emmer met caleidoscopen is gevallen, zo veelzijdig hoe hij toch iedere keer weer naar buiten weet te treden en derhalve te verrassen. Het is in veel opzichten een wereldalbum geworden.
Anxious Magazine (translated from Polish)
House of Strength is an album that, though tied to a specific performance by Roshanak Morrowatian, functions surprisingly well as a standalone experience. Rutger Zuydervelt has proven for years that he can build musical spaces of extraordinary emotional density, but here he goes a step further: his compositions not only accompany movement but seem to be movement themselves—pulsating energy that swells, ebbs, and changes shape as if breathing with the dancers.
The album carries a touch of ritual, yet it's not a reconstructive ritual, recreating ancient forms. Zuydervelt moves between traditional Iranian percussion and contemporary club aesthetics, creating a fusion that's at first glance unobvious, yet remarkably natural. These two worlds aren't opposed to each other—in House of Strength , they intertwine, creating a bridge between what's inherited and what's still emerging. This gives the album both an archaic austerity and a futuristic outlook.
One of the most fascinating elements is the use of recordings of the performers themselves as a "choir"—murmurs, murmurs, and breaths that bring physicality and intimacy to the music. Arise features the mesmerizing overtone singing of Reza Mirabi—a voice that opens the music to an almost meditative dimension, as if an invisible thread of spirituality hovered over the whole. Voorbij, with Sjaan Flikweert's "spoken word," reinforces the impression that we're listening to something more than a soundtrack—a kind of story told simultaneously through words, movement, and rhythm.
Although the final two pieces didn't appear in the performance, they provide a beautiful closure. It's these pieces that most reveal Zuydervelt's compositional autonomy: less choreographed, more open, uplifting in a pure, almost direct way. The album's final minutes leave a feeling of gentle elation—the kind that instinctively compels you to press "play" again.
House of Strength is intense, energetic, and yet attentive music. Listening to it is like a testament to strength—both physical and spiritual. And perhaps therein lies its greatest power: the sense that strength is something shared here, something born from relationships, rhythm, and breath.
