Pekka Pohjola
Visitation

"Ars Longa, Vita Brevis"

"...After the subsequent Being of '74 the historic four-member formation will dissolve, but Wigwam will not end with it as the two founders Ronnie and Jim will create a new incarnation of the band, while Jukka and Pekka will focus on their solo projects, of which maybe we could speak, one day or another..."

June 16th. A year has already passed since I wrote these words. Perhaps it is because, in the meantime, many things have happened and others have irreparably changed, but it seems like an eternity has passed since the moment when, captured by an uncontrollable enthusiasm, I painted, with a certain debt of objectivity, the merits of "Fairyport", extolling the epic deeds of its highly skilled creators and leaving the discussion open, so that I could resume it in a subsequent surge of passion and esteem toward Jukka Gustavson and companions, or because of an overwhelming attack of nostalgia for the cold and wonderful lands of Finland.

Unfortunately now, behind the feverish typing of my fingers on the keyboard, is not a rediscovered enthusiasm (never really dormant) or an irrepressible urge to provide information, but the sadness and profound regret derived from the bitter memory of the death of Pekka Pohjola, who on last November 27th, passed away at the young age of 56, leaving the world orphaned of a highly talented bassist and composer, creator of some of the most beautiful and important pages of music from the entire Finnish artistic panorama. Given the character's reserved nature, the reasons for his death have never been disclosed, although it is no secret that the artist, in his last years of life, was going through a difficult period, on which, however, I have decided not to investigate nor write, out of respect for him.

Pekka's prolific individual journey began in 1972 with "Pihkasilmä Kaarnakorva", which, similarly to the excellent debut of a certain Steve Hackett, which occurred three years later, is characterized by a style still very much tied to the progressive of the group of the author's affiliation, although a dappled and dynamic jazz rock, which in fact began to assert itself already in '74, plays its considerable part thanks to the wind dominance of the subsequent "Harakka Bialoipokku". The end of the seventies saw the realization of two of the most inspired and suggestive works in the discography of the Nordic composer, the first of which, baptized "Keesojen Lehto" and produced together with Mike Oldfield, boasts a particularly soft and dreamy language (either due to the greater relevance of the piano, or due to the unmistakable touch of Mike and his sister Sally, engaged in singing), while the second, now expertly eyeing the past, resumes the sounds of the debut and molds them into an elegant and jazzy form, masterfully inlaid by skilled classical and progressive contaminations.

"Visitation", brought to light in 1979, seems to narrate the unfolding of a typical day in "the land of green and white", where the whiteness of the snow wraps in a white mantle the icy water of the lakes, the deep valleys, the intense green of the dense forests, and the enchanting villages born at the foot of the mountains, composing a picture of peace and harmony, fascinatingly tinged with a subtle aura of mystery, excellently represented by the nocturnal cover of the album. Dawn is marked by Pekka's piano, which, through the gradual lightening of the dark initial theme, appears like a sky in eager anticipation of the sunlight, which, indeed, does not hesitate to reveal itself, in the guise of Pekka Pöyry's sax ("Strange Awakenings"), generous in providing light, throughout the day, to the reckless runs among the trees of Seppo Tyni's guitar ("Vapor Trails"), to the innocent mischief of Markku Johansson's trumpet, elaborated with the complicity of Esko Rosnell's percussion ("Dancing in the Dark"), and to the academic and refined performances of the town band, impersonated none other than by the Philarmonic Orchestra of Helsinki ("Image of a Passing Smile"). As the renewed darkness falls, the lights of the houses turn on, and Aale Lindgren's oboe sets out to sing with the help of the guitar, testifying to a spirit still reluctant to the idea of repose ("The Sighting"), while outside the walls of the citadel, Pekka's bass intones a melancholy lament at the sight of the romantic stars that hover over the landscape and seem to vibrate with every throbbing note of Olli Ahvenlahti's piano ("Try to Remember").

The end of the album coincides with the closing of a decade and the systematic beginning of another, characterized by a deceptive jazz rock start ("Kätkävaaran Lohikäärme", 1980 - "Urban Tango", 1982), unexpectedly resolved in a decisive turn towards predominantly classical shores, culminating in the orchestral "Symphony no. 1" (1990) and prolonged, albeit discontinuously, until the final "Views" of 2001, which marks the end of the considerable productivity of a unique figure, widely deserving to be remembered in the years to come for his undeniable contribution to the music scene, both Finnish and beyond.

Goodbye Pekka, I hope that in the place you are now, you are serene enough to keep playing...