•
Rating: In Gowan Ring is, in my opinion, one of the most deserving projects, although unrecognized, of the neo-folk universe: a mysterious and solitary figure, the American multi-instrumentalist Jon Michael B'eirth has been around since 1994, and, quietly, away from the spotlight, he has managed to string together gems of rare beauty. However, it should be made clear from the outset that to define his poignant ballads as apocalyptic would be limiting, if not misleading for those wanting to approach his music.
The discourse can indeed be traced back to the path inaugurated many years ago by master Ian Read with his legendary "Fire + Ice"; a path to which other glories of the third millennium neo-folk scene ("Forseti" and "Sonne Hagal" in primis, with whom, by the way, B'eirth has collaborated on and off) have long since joined.
We are not surprised, moreover, if upon the completion of the album I’m talking about today, this sublime "Hazel Steps Through a Weathered Home" (released in 2002), essential figures of the old apocalyptic school such as Michael Moyhihan, Robert Ferbrache, and Annabel Lee from Blood Axis would contribute.
Yet, the sensitivity with which B'eirth writes and interprets his music seems to directly descend from the tradition of the folk singers of the sixties; a music with an archaic and traditional flavor, but that knows how to tinge itself with psychedelia and those gentle romantic settings dear to certain representatives of prog of the seventies, so much so that the more panicky and sentimental King Crimson often comes to mind.
A sort of Nick Drake of the Runes, B'eirth erects a hymn to the past, to tradition, to themes of fatal death and tragic love, in a context of naturalistic pangenesis where man is at one with the laws of the Universe. Yet, by dedicating the album to the "homeless hearts", he sets up an intimate and at the same time universal fresco, which brings him closer to the figure of a medieval minstrel intent on evoking an entire fantastic world, relying solely and exclusively on the strength of words, poetry, and the images it invokes.
More than anything, it seems that this man has the Gift; the gift, that is, of knowing how to write and interpret music that, although simple and elementary, linear and essentially predictable, proves to be emotional in every instance.
For this reason, one may find themselves extraordinarily moved by the slightest thing, right from the very first notes of the splendid opener "The Orb Weavers", opened by the mournful intertwining of violin and cello: one may find themselves moved at the moment when B'eirth's fragile and vibrant singing breaks in, gently laid down, as if cradled by the gentle sway of a slightly rippled sea, on the delicate arpeggios of a velvety acoustic guitar.
Do not expect great plot twists from "Hazel Steps Through a Weathered Home," composed of nine more or less homogeneous tracks, with a slow and subdued pace, whose sound economy remains mainly anchored to the voice, the guitar, and the infinite nuances of a sincere, noble, gentle heart.
You may cry hearing the childish lullabies of a flute; you may find yourself gently carried away by the soft percussions that animate certain episodes, without upsetting the sad and calm mood of the album; you may abandon yourself to infinite melancholy before the poignant dance of the strings and melt for a whisper or a piano phrase. Each with its own reason for being, the nine gems composing the work carry within themselves the same poetic world: an epic of solitude, a melancholic gaze at the world, a participatory contemplation of reality, which is typical of great artists.
Affectionately recommended.
Loading comments slowly
