CECILIE STRANGE is Danish but, with a true Scandinavian heart, she’s been much affected by Swedish and Norwegian folk music.

Along with Swedish pianist Jan Johansen, who fuses jazz with folk melodies, she’s come up with new album Blikan, meaning “to shine” or “to appear” in Icelandic.

“The album’s tunes have a light — a symbol of growth —  in them,” she tells me.

“Like a light on the horizon when day turns to night, or a light that makes all living things grow and makes we humans stay positive.”

Her prime musical inspirations from a young age were the likes of Stan Getz, whose love of Brazilian folk music and sessions with Astrud and Joao Gilberto had a big impact, along with the sound and feeling for time of John  Coltrane and Dexter Gordon.

Two years ago, she found the kindred spirits who play with her both on Blikan and her previous album Blue. They hadn’t played together before and it seemed like sheer serendipity that they were suddenly thrown together in The Village studio in Copenhagen.

“Peter Rosendale is a jazz pianist but has played a lot of folk,” she says. “He turns small melodies into long, fantastic and funny tales.

“Bassist Thommy Andersson is an amazing teacher who plays jazz, folk and classical. He raises the music to the highest level, while Jakob Hoyer’s drums put space in the music like I’ve never heard before. His drumsticks are paintbrushes and he paints so delicately and beautifully.”

The mix of the three and herself “felt so right,” and “it was almost like a dream when we played together from that very first time. It was so natural.We just stood in a circle in the same room and played.”

In Scandinavian folk music, everything circles around melody, she explains, while in jazz, improvisation is the defining principle. “When these sounds melt together, something amazing happens.

“In Scandinavian folk the melodies are in minor keys which make the music melancholic and thoughtful, bringing unique power to the music.”

But it is space that characterises the sound on both albums: “We listen so much to each other and only play when needed. Minimalism is a big part of the Scandinavian sound.”

Blikan has its very own sonic grace and beauty, particularly on the track Wild Flower, with its light, feathery timbre, with all the softness and delicacy of petals, or the pianoless adaptation of the Swedish folk song I Know a Lovely Rose, which Strange plays as if a flower is breathing with human life.

The pandemic has caused people to listen more to new music, she believes, and she finds “comfort and hope in this music. We need something to hold on to when everything around us changes.”

And she can’t wait to start playing live again. “Playing for people again, people in the same room. My biggest dream right now is to visit countries outside Denmark to present my music.”

Until then, listening to Blikan is a pretty good alternative.