Enya
A Day Without Rain

THE REVIEW

Finally Enya. The beginning of the new millennium marks the return of the Irish artist with a brand-new album, a meticulous work for which Eithne Ni Bhraonain – this is her distinctly Gaelic name – spent nearly five years: her last completely original work, "The Memory Of Trees", dates back to 1995, and it seems that such a long wait can only justify the anticipation of enthusiasts of the genre. And so it is: "A Day without Rain" appears in a reassuring guise, with the image of Enya sitting on a couch casting a relaxed and serene look; the twelve tracks contribute to defining a well-crafted and enjoyable album. This work, despite its homogeneity, is a varied product, evading the repetitiveness of which the Irish artist has often been accused, rich in harmony, simplicity, yet at the same time in pathos, pain, drama.

The beginning, consisting of the title track, is remarkably promising, with a beautiful piano performance by Enya herself: a high-level overture that introduces the audience to the pizzicato of "Wild Child" shortly after; a track of enchanting sweetness, it has its strength in pompous orchestration. The hit "Only Time," the third track, has that slowly oriental flavor so dear to the Irish artist: time, subject, and object of the song, wonderfully expands in chant and counter-chant with great continuity; everything proceeds for the best, when, almost as a reminder that time is a drastic change of seasons, the anguished "Tempus Vernum" bursts forth: of Neoclassical cut - in a musical sense - it draws the listener into a murky vortex of resounding tones. The calm after the storm is the melancholic "Deora Ar Mo Chroí," an enyano homage to the flavorful Gaelic word, while "Flora's Secret" is again delightful, its theme, later reprised, dissolving melancholically in "Fallen Embers," which, almost reinforcing the previous concept, once more veils the atmosphere of sadness by speaking of distant times. After the lively "Silver Inches" and the poignant "Pilgrim," the minimalistic enchantment of a tree losing its leaves becomes a subject of mild sorrow in "One by One," among the most beautiful pieces of the album, just before leading to the carefree final "Lazy Days," a serene conclusion of a delicate work in consistently subdued tones; in between, the instrumental "The First of Autumn," with diligent orchestration. A refined artist Enya, not of this World.