Donovan
Sutras

The time gap between "Neutronica" (1980) and "Sutras" (1996) can be described as a long fade-out, a partially voluntary exile: the fact is that the excellent and courageous 1980 album is followed the next year by the mysterious and elusive "Love Is Only Feeling", then in 1984, there's "Lady Of The Stars", mostly composed of re-editions of his old prestigious work, and then nothing: no more new material. Donovan limits himself to live performances, documented by the album "Rising" in 1990 until, after many, too many years, someone still remembers him and gives him the chance to express his art: the eclectic producer Rick Rubin, who welcomes him to his American Recordings and produces "Sutras", a work of exquisite quality.

"Sutra" is a term borrowed from Hindu culture, translatable as aphorism or short poem, a concept that perfectly describes the fifteen songs on this album, almost equally divided between love and meditation; the album is accompanied by arrangements that serve as an enrichment and completion without ever overpowering the purely acoustic nature of the compositions. Donovan had already tried a similar experiment in 1973 with "Essence To Essence," and the results were, as I have reiterated many times, below expectations. "Sutras" instead, also thanks to the long period of silence (and incubation) that preceded it, is a total and complete success. Initially, this record, more than for its songs, impresses for its peculiar feeling of peace, dreaminess, and meditation it manages to infuse in the listener. Only later does the organic eclecticism that distinguishes the album emerge, its microcosms contained in each song, the harmonic sequence of moods that dance following Donovan's soothing words in an ancient and universal dance.

The first part of "Sutras" refers exclusively to themes of love: the almost bare sobriety of "Please Don't Bend", a tormented and unreachable dream, the sweetness of "Give It All Up" confirming the great melody-creating gifts of the Scottish minstrel, sublimating in the spiritual elevation of "High Your Love", marked by synthesizers and tribal percussion, the lulling sweetness of "Sleep", a traditional lullaby arranged with rare sensitivity and kindness, the poetry of "Everlasting Sea", an expanded and dreamlike melody, masterfully supported by a majestic vortex of strings in the background and the unmistakable psychedelic and slowed down pace of "The Clear-Browed One", where past suggestions come alive, and the elegantly "Be Mine", enriched by a very "nocturnal" piano accompanied by the solemn hieratical presence of an organ, evoking cosmic suggestions. The predominant spiritual and meditative side of "Sutras" is an even more eclectic journey, where each song is almost a direct consequence of the previous one, in a concatenation of heterogeneous harmonies: "The Way", the only uptempo of the album, which recalls the unmistakable sound of the Byrds, the soft and muffled beats of the minimalist "Deep Peace", the rarefied tension, the palpable mystery that explodes in the liberating and echoing chorus of "Nirvana", the flamenco suggestions of the beautiful "Eldorado", Edgar Allan Poe's poetry brought to life by Donovan's magnetic voice accompanied by only acoustic guitar and distant and romantic orchestrations, with the same art of a snake charmer. The subdued nocturnal lament of "Lady Of The Lamp" precedes a burst of light, slowly blooming in "The Evernow", a soft yet radiant triumph of strings breaking the shadowy textures of the acoustic guitar and then radiating in all its force with "Universe Am I", the lotus flower in full bloom, the most emphatic and solemn song of the album, immediate and anthemic, embodying the vision, the prophecy of a future golden age, of an era of peace and balance, crescendo marked by a prominently featured drum, adding rhythm and vividness to this idealistic utopia. The cycle closes with the distant and blurred vision of a universal genesis, "The Garden," accompanied by a soft and mysterious flute that contrasts with the subdued arpeggios and a singing almost lost in the void.

Sixteen years after his last significantly important recording legacy, "Sutras" once again confirms what a wonderful and extraordinary artist Philip Donovan Leitch is, grappling with an almost concept album that is cultured and fascinating, characterized by a universal poetry long dreamed of and desired; "Sutras" resembles the style later adopted by Yusuf/Cat Stevens in its approach, with reflection and refined simplicity, but with even greater inspiration and class; a commendation also goes to Rick Rubin, who understands the artist's needs and perfectly accommodates them with sublime arrangements and an enveloping and crystalline sound. "Sutras" is also the definitive artistic testament of Donovan; in hindsight, had he ended his "recording artist" career here, he would have made the right choice, given that the subsequent "Beat Café" would be a very bitter surprise.