A beautiful voice and undeniable stage presence are important, almost indispensable traits for a pop singer, but obviously, they are not enough to make a complete artist; many, far too many times, we've witnessed the rise to the celebrity Olympus of figures who didn't even possess these basic requirements, but that wasn't the case for Sandra Lauer/Cretu, internationally recognized, also rightly, as a "minor" icon of '80s pop and nothing more. I'm not a great admirer of her ex-husband/guru Michael Cretu, despite recognizing his courage and ability to achieve notable success even outside of a strictly pop context, and regarding Sandra's first three albums, I can only digest them in small doses (Not to say almost unlistenable, with the exception of "Into A Secret Land" of '88, all things considered, decent), aged poorly and nothing more than containers for those 2-3 leading singles. The mid-career episodes like "Fading Shades" and "Wheel Of Time", perfect but essentially anonymous, leave me completely indifferent and regarding the more recent works, I don't think they're worth spending time on, yet this beautiful and statuesque German singer also had her masterpiece. Well, maybe not a masterpiece in a global and absolute sense, but "Paintings In Yellow" of 1990 is truly a good album, in its genre, I would say excellent.
"Paintings In Yellow" is that moment when the proverbial broken clock shows the right time, a metaphor that might seem a bit cheeky but, given the qualitative uniqueness of this episode in Sandra's discography, I would say it corresponds to the truth. There is an inspired, solid, and uniform songwriting that makes it a real and structured album, there is a significant voice at the highest levels of expressiveness, and above all, there is an almost perfect stylistic balance, and it is precisely this last feature that makes the difference. The proposition of "Paintings In Yellow" consists fundamentally in a pop with new age flavor still tied to the stylistic canons of the '80s, but the arrangements, the melodies, the core intentions make it decidedly mature, enjoyable, and modern, a great leap in quality compared to the plasticity of the previous episodes. The album is rich and enjoyable, it can be listened to with great pleasure from beginning to (almost) end thanks to a concise and high-level tracklist, completely devoid of fillers. The long electronic ballad "Hiroshima" is a first appetizer of the composer's new age turn, who hits upon an engaging and very scenic melody, a perfect start also because it has the merit of enhancing Sandra's vocal skills 100%, who, finally freed from annoying over-pumped keyboards (the most odious thing of '80s pop as far as I'm concerned), is much more convincing and expressive.
"Paintings In Yellow" promotes Sandra to a higher category, bringing her to compete with her contemporary Maggie Reilly as a solo artist in an accessible and moderately baroque pop/new age realm, interpreted with a more savvy and sensual approach, especially in the case of a charming "Lovelight In Your Eyes", or with refinement and an exotic touch in the rhythms and atmospheres in the tender ballad "One More Night" and in "Paintings In Yellow", a muffled title track, serene but with great scenic effectiveness. "(Life May Be) A Big Insanity" offers a not very original but very pleasant lively and carefree pop/funky that provides an excellent counterbalance to a beautiful "Johnny Wanna Live", a fascinating atmospheric midtempo with heartfelt and melancholic tones. It's not the most beautiful song on the album nor the most ambitious, but "The Skin I'm In" certainly deserves a special mention, in its absolute unpretentiousness it manages to be brilliant and almost iconic: I like everything about this song, its fresh and intoxicating rhythm, its light and natural glamor, the flair and conviction with which Sandra interprets it, even the lyrics, very simple but in its way significant, "I don't care what people think, that's just because I like the skin I'm in".
Unfortunately, there's also the disappointing conclusion with "The Journey", which starts well as a pleasant and atmospheric new age ballad but gets lost in an absolutely superfluous and messy instrumental coda in which, for some mysterious reason known only to Michael Cretu, the riff of "Whole Lotta Love" also appears. In this case, I am probably a bit too biased since I find Enigma and similar projects absolutely indigestible, but in any case, this show-off act does not alter the overall positive judgment on this pop gem straddling the '80s and '90s, which brings together in a tasty and attractive blend some of the best qualities of the dominant sounds of the two decades. Congratulations to Michael and Sandra, even though they were not able to maintain the category throughout their careers, this remains a distinguished album, deserving to be rediscovered and properly valued.
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