Acoustic piano, electronic percussion, organ, string quartet and live electronic processing filled the Southern Theater with ambient and melodic, minimalist and symphonic sounds in last night’s installment of the Wordless Music Series.

Based in New York, Wordless Music describes itself as "devoted to the idea that the sound worlds of classical and contemporary instrumental music — in genres such as indie rock and electronica — share more in common than conventional thinking might suggest." It’s one of the few times, maybe the only time, you can see recitalists and rockers on the same stage.

Arts Journal has called the series "a doorway into the future" for its ability to draw young crowds. Looking around, I saw 20-somethings and olders, artists, musicians and music presenters from major Twin Cities arts organizations. The house was so full that extra chairs were set up at the back.

The star attraction was Icelandic composer Jóhann Jóhannsson, who brought with him fellow Icelander Matthias Hemstock on percussion and electronics and four members of New York’s American Contemporary Music Ensemble (ACME): violinists Keats Dieffenbach and Caleb Burhans, violist Nadia Sirota and cellist Clarice Jensen.

They walked on stage without a word and began performing selections from a trilogy of Jóhannsson recordings: "Englabörn" (2002), derived from music he wrote for an Icelandic play; "IBM 1401—A User’s Manual" (2006), inspired by a reel-to-reel recording of an IBM mainframe computer made by the composer’s father more than 30 years ago; and his most recent, "Fordlândia" (2008), in part a response to Henry Ford’s failed utopia in the Amazon. (If you don’t know about Fordlandia, check this out. It’s fascinating.)

We in the audience behaved as if we were at a classical music concert hearing a single long work with several movements, waiting quietly between selections for the next to begin. The exception was the burst of applause after "The Sun’s Gone Dim and the Sky’s Turned Black," which the otherwise deeply serious Jóhannsson rewarded with a smile.

Throughout, the music was exquisite. A changing palette of sounds and moods: spacious, personal, melancholy, joyous, solemn, uplifting. It felt like I imagine Iceland to be, a vast and beautiful expanse. In Jóhannsson’s music, electronic sounds — which include processed human voices, feedback, beats, buzzes, and drones — are not additions or distractions but instruments that contribute depth and dimension. There is repetition à la Philip Glass, but never too much.

The intimacy of the space (the Southern is small, making it a perfect setting for new music and dance) contributed to the experience, as did the film projected on the wall behind the musicians: shadowy, grainy, black-and-white images of landscapes, buildings, people, conveyor belts, pipes spewing liquids, and a man with a guitar on his back swinging a handsaw. Go here to watch videos.

I’m not familiar enough with Jóhannsson’s recordings to name everything the ensemble played last night, but I know we heard several selections from "Fordlândia" ("The Rocket Builder," "Melodia"), the aforementioned "The Sun’s Gone Dim," "IBM 1401 Processing Unit," and the achingly gorgeous "Passacaglia," available only on an EP.

To be honest, I hadn’t heard any of Jóhannsson’s music until yesterday, when I wandered the Internet hearing snippets and watching videos. Our music community is so rich and varied, and most tickets are still so affordable, that it’s worth taking risks and trying something new.

The Southern is a good place to go for that. I don’t see a "Wordless Music" date on the just-announced 2009/10 schedule, but I do see the Dirty Three (whoever they are), a new Twin Cities chamber music ensemble called Accordo, a group named Osso performing string arrangements of music by Sufjan Stevens, the International Contemporary Ensemble, and the return of Nico Muhly, this time with Sam Amidon.

Art should sometimes be about the unknown, maybe being bored or disappointed and maybe, if you’re lucky, having your heart squeezed or your head blown up. Last night Jóhannsson took me to places I had never been, and like any traveler, I’m a changed person.

Opening for Jóhannsson were area indie-rockers Tarlton (Brett Bullion) on drumset and electronics, with Adam Wozniak on upright and electric bass. Bullion’s creds include collaborations with Martin Dosh, Happy Apple, the Fog, Cepia, and Heiruspecs. He and Wozniak laid down beats, made loops and added layers. I liked the music more when Bullion was drumming than when he was turning knobs. I wondered (not for the first time) if a steady, repetitive, never-changing beat is liberating or confining.

Pamela Espeland keeps a live jazz calendar and blogs about jazz at Bebopified. She throws out the occasional jazz-related tweet.