Celestia
Apparitia - Sumptuous Spectre

And so the hour of Celestia came, and a bit of uncertainty assails me as I face the daunting task of reviewing an album in its own unique way, even though it's part of a narrow-minded universe like black metal. Led by the charismatic Sir Noktu Geistmortt, a character with an attitude anything but unassailable given his experience in buffoonish projects like Gestapo666, but also involved in a couple of noteworthy bands like Mortifera and the aforementioned Celestia, they released this "Apparitia-Sumptuos Spectre" in 2002, one of their few full-lengths considering the band's habit of releasing their outputs as demos, splits, etc. Far from onanistic Satanism and the pseudo-gore or panic themes of their Scandinavian colleagues, these three frog eaters bring as a gift to the altar of art a concept that deviates a bit from the classic themes of the genre, creating a dimension where gothic literature, tragic sentimental relationships (read: apocalyptic two of spades and systematic rejections from the fairer sex) and indistinct female figures rendered as specters by the power of memory blend together, a dimension where even aesthetics have its own relevance within the work, guiding the Celestia universe and not merely serving as a backdrop.

The start is overwhelming, passionate, the guitar plots modulate heart-rending cries set on a staff, the intensity of the notes of "Awakening of the Dormant Fiancee" leaves you breathless, as the last farewell is given to the dying body of one's beloved, confused by the images that the past makes even more vivid in front of the prospect of eternal sleep: here every apathy is repelled, melancholy explodes with vehemence, making every second of this song frantic, interrupted by a break that cuts the tension only to dive back into it shortly after without leaving an escape; one immediately notices Celestia's will to bring to life pieces that aspire to have their own personality, fully succeeding in the objective given the magnificence of the riffs that spring from the six strings, supported by Astrelya's relentless drumming which, although without much variation on the theme, performs its duty perfectly, clearing the field of any risk of falling into the banal. "Necromelancholic Reveries" starts more subdued, but it's pure illusion: here the beat is hard, but the paradoxical sensation is that violence and delicacy have never married so well: dark arpeggios serve as a background to Noktu's rasping narrative voice; a steady bass completes the fresco, and the result gives chills. One prepares for the stab, and "Pervert, Decadent, Dying Love" is one of the sharpest blades in the lot: here it transcends to the superb, never has so much incense been spread in honor of negative feelings among which there isn't one that doesn't get absorbed by the defenseless listener, never enough prepared for an emotional march of such magnitude and of such a high level. Lunar keyboards, cleverly measured, turn the finale into a disastrous solitary cry, distant wails... "I was waiting for the black entity, the one who takes you out of this world forever". In another context, these words would have almost made me laugh, but in this case, they sound entirely different. The illusion also creeps into the beginning of "The Fragrance of a Dead Rose": a placid arpeggio calms the spirits after the storm unleashed by "Spectre" (accompanied by a beautiful solo at the end) and corroborated by "Morbid Romance," then, annihilation. The finale only allows one to passively witness the defeat, because the intensity of this journey leaves no strength to react.    

The elliptical tones of these lines will be confirmed during the listening. The greatest sin concerning this album is that it has rarely been talked about in the past: today, however, thanks also to the luxurious reissue by the always sharp ATMF, I hope it can show itself to the world in all its splendor. VIVA LA FRANCE!