Loreena McKennitt
Night Ride Across The Caucasus

THE REVIEW

I enter, at my own risk, a field with which I am not particularly familiar, and perhaps not particularly compatible. Respect? Certainly. Interest? Also. Something more? I've tried, but the proverbial spark never really ignited. However, in my ventures into discovering this fascinating artist, I found two compositions that particularly impressed me; curiously, neither draws from the Celtic roots from which Loreena McKennitt started. One is “Tango To Evora”, the other, indeed, “Night Ride Across The Caucasus”, a song that, in terms of elegance and visionary charm, stands as an absolute milestone.

Night ride across the Caucasus … the Caucasus … as I interpret it, this geographical reference has a mainly allegorical and spiritual significance: Crossroads of peoples and cultures, troubled history, breathtaking but distant natural beauty, almost inaccessible. In Greco-Roman times, it was considered one of the farthest limits of the civilized world, and Mount Ararat immediately evokes a very ancient and enigmatic mythology. The ideal setting for a journey that is first and foremost spiritual, interpreted by Loreena McKennitt as a contemplation, as the celebration of Nature portrayed as serene, gentle, a beauty that revives spirits, yet also regal, majestic, a dominant force.

“There are visions, there are memories
There are echoes of thundering hooves
There are fires, there is laughter
There's the sound of a thousand doves”

The initial situation is that of a caravan, a group of travelers journeying through the mountains as night falls; they are accompanied by torches and laughter, it's an august vision of peace and harmony.

“In the velvet of the darkness
By the silhouette of silent trees
They are watching, they are waiting
They are witnessing life's mysteries”

Time passes, the night grows darker, and the convivial atmosphere gives way to silence, a contemplative silence; which seems to confirm the power of a Nature that induces travelers to a respectful awe, and perhaps to deep reflections.

“Cascading stars on the slumbering hills
They are dancing as far as the sea
Riding o'er the land, you can feel its gentle hand
Leading on to its destiny”

And finally,