A Closer Listen
Meidän täytyy valvoa jottemme nukkuisi, sillä maailma on liukas (Google translation: We must watch that we do not sleep, for the world is slippery) refers to a letter written by nineteenth century painter Pekka Halonen to his sister. He warns that one must stay vigilant in the face of information overload, and not allow one’s self to grow jaded, apathetic or overwhelmed. One wonders what might have constituted “information bombardment” in the 1800s, although the physical increase in noise is easy to identify as the byproduct of the Industrial Revolution. The cover image, which references Ophelia floating down the river, is apt; the subject matter remains startlingly relevant.
The album was conceived “during a year of loss and a remarkably grey time.” Pietu Arvola lost himself in the landscapes of Fallout 4, but then emerged to wander the Finnish forests, recording sounds that would eventually end up on this album. This contrast contributes the album’s tone, simultaneously grounded and otherworldly, akin to a phantasm. One is reminded of the fairy tale realms of fellow Finns Paavoharju, although this album is topped with a thicker film of melancholy.
Bells and “clatters” provide much of the album’s texture, another juxtaposition, one calming, the other disorienting. Citizens search for peace in the modern world, but noise, both physical and written, continues to intrude. As the opening piece builds to cacophony, one thinks not only of a 19th century factory, but of the onslaught of social media. The rain of the closing minutes is like the tug of nature, an echo of the natural world. In the single “Kaikki vääristyy,” an unintelligible voice is surrounded by slow, sad notes and a more specific clatter, like that of a train that slows without stopping. In the video, the protagonist slogs through the mud.
One can hear Arvola struggling to sanity, to stasis. As the album progresses, more windows of ambience open, the abrasion swept aside. A clean river runs through the forest; but does it cradle a body? Only a few years ago, the entire world shared a “Year of Sorrows.” In many ways, it has never recovered. Yet Arvola works his way up to a track whose title is beautifully translated, “In the darkness of the night I saw heavenly visions.” In a way, these visions have been translated to this album. Inspiration is itself a vision, the creative act its fruition. The album does sound grey, but like the man in the video, it has enough energy to keep crawling until it reaches solid ground. (Richard Allen)
Tue Oct 08 00:01:25 GMT 2024