Par Lindh Project
Gothic Impressions

THE REVIEW

Churches with immense naves and vaults reaching into infinity. Long processions of monks accompanied by soft Gregorian chants. The hard and bare stone a witness to dark and bygone centuries. Places where silence is voice and where the word is only a lie. These are just some of the sensations you feel when listening to this Gothic Impressions by Swedish keyboardist Par Lindh, an album that inevitably projects into mystical and dark atmospheres.

Composed in the '70s but released only in 1994, this is one of the best blends of symphonic music and rock. Par Lindh, a direct descendant of the great Rick Wakeman and Keith Emerson, inherits from them a passion for classical music, as well as that global vision that allows such disparate genres as classical (and in this case sacred music) and rock to be united. Less devoted, compared to his supreme masters, to exhibitionism for its own sake, Par Lindh manages to create a fresco of rare beauty, in which the multiple sounds of his keyboards manage to recreate a magical and solemn atmosphere and project the listener into a world, the monastic one, outside the patterns and our daily conception of time. It is the shadow that is the absolute protagonist of this album, but not a shadow understood as a negative element, but a shadow that cloaks the hypocrisy of everyday life with its veils, that takes us by the hand and leads us into layers of existence now forgotten. The intro of Dresden Lamentation, sweet, soft, yet disturbing at the same time, with the strings recreated by keyboards introduces us into this imaginary monastery (as I interpret it) and then launches into The iconoclast, where the pipe organ and mellotron chase each other without end and the aphonic, Gregorian voice of Divad Jonsson lulls us throughout the seven minutes in which the sacredness of the music is palpable in every note. Par Lindh also tackles bass and drums with flattering results, but it is his keyboards, his ecclesiastical organs, that elevate the product to a masterpiece, just as in the following Green Meadow Land again the strings and the flute of Bjorn Johansson recreate an atmosphere of typical romantic prog, Genesis style as we would say. The atmosphere becomes more relaxed and bright, and the feeling becomes strong of perhaps being in one of the monastery gardens, contemplating nature in all its beauty and perfection. But when the heart is already full of feelings, the explosion happens with the next The cathedral, dedicated to the cathedral of Charter. A solemn, majestic organ will lift you beyond the immense vaults of the cathedral, and inside it, Lindh's keyboards go wild, now sacred, now profane. A lute and flute interlude with Jonsson's unique voice brings tears, and after 19 minutes of mystical ecstasy, the pipe organ, in all its power, concludes a journey in which we bring home our heart bent to the greatness of music. Gunnlev’s round is a medieval delight, a folk dance, a lullaby accompanied by a harpsichord, flute, and female voice. In full Emersonian style concludes a reworking of Mussorgsky's Night on Bald Mountain, disruptive and dark like a raging river, with jazzy interludes in which Par Lindh shows all his class.

The shadow now dominates everything and becomes the absolute protagonist in the final explosion. An album of immeasurable beauty. An absolute masterpiece.