Are you ready for winter yet? Even if you’re still adjusting to falling leaves and migrating flocks, Talon unseen vaipuen (Falling Into Winter’s Sleep) may put you in the mood. Why let Christmas have all the fun when winter lasts so much longer? Meriheino Luoto has gathered four Finnish ensembles – Awake Percussion, Luotoluonnos, Saxtronauts and Signe – to bring her vision to life. The result is a gorgeous set that starts with the first hint of frost and travels through the season to intimations of spring.
“Kätköt” leads the way with an incredible array of percussion that imitates sleet bouncing on a cold tin roof. This is the moment in which the seasons change, when autumn topples into winter; and yet, the sound is so distinct that one already remembers what one loves about the coldest season. The plinks and plonks are like promises of a new form of beauty. And just like that, the first snow. “Ensilumen Alta” exudes the joy of the first sight of white as it descends from the heavens, the precipitation softening, no longer bouncing but floating.
There are many kinds of winter, just as there are many kinds of winter music. Wordless vocals enter, first as a lullaby and then as an evening tale, laden with mystery and fraught with a frisson of danger. The purrings and cooing sound like shivering cats searching the house for a heater. By the center of the album, everyone has found a hole or a hideaway, a burrow or a blanket, and has begun to dream. One can hear the breath at the center of the sonic field, whether that of a long winter’s nap or a season-long hibernation. The impression is one of restful contentment, the cello like a long, contented snore. In these pieces, the album fulfills the promise of its title. “Talviunia” is particularly restive, its woodwinds like a cool breeze coasting through the eaves, with sudden percussion like a squirrel stretching its little feet and searching for an acorn.
By “While Others Still Sleep,” the percussion is again in full effect, like a late winter’s storm or an early riser clattering about the house. A shaker imitates the sound of boots on snow. But then the icemelt begins, dripping and flowing in small rivulets. The white is receding; the green is growing beneath the ground. As the album closes, one realizes that one has been led through the kindest, calmest winter: a centering cold, not to be dreaded but to be embraced. May it be so for all of us this coming season. (Richard Allen)