Back in stock: Modern Classical

Review: Grand River's (Aimee Portioli's) fifth studio album (her first after the brilliant In uno spazio immenso, her debut for Caterina Barbieri's label Light-years label) began as an installation in 2022. Having since evolved into multi-channel, 4DSOUND, and stereo formats, the record has bridged every hurdle to live performances it could possibly face. The 36-minute composition is divided into two parts: Portioli recorded various winds and transformed them via layering and pitch adjustments, fashioning the wind itself into an instrument. Going so far as to align the gusts to a 440hz reference and tuning particular instruments to windward passages, Portioli went with the wind, yet still wound up more alive than ever. Wind and synthesizers merge seamlessly, erasing the line between natural and human-made sound; silent until it meets an object, air currents produce an array of tones, from whispers, to roars, to melodies.

Review: Mathew Halsall's Manchester-based Gondwana label reaches out to Hanakiv, a young composer and musician from Estonia who is now based in London. She has a sound couched in meditative piano but with influences from experimental, classical and her own cultural heritage. She has formally studied composition and has a real love of nature as well as mavericks like Aphex Twin, all of which come out in these challenging but ultimately rewarding sounds. They are often both soothing and cathartic yet edgy and inventive in the way the chords are paired with busy wind sounds, shimmering vocals and tense melodies.

Review: Belgian composer Elisabeth Klinck delivers her debut album Picture A Frame, via Hallowed Ground, and in doing so channels a haunting evocation, which, at the same time, sounds as though it were captured on an imperfect medium. The result of a collaborative process that saw her working closely with artist Oscar Claus, the album features eight pieces for violin, electronics, and field recordings, recorded in an abandoned monastery and a small village in the Spanish Pyrenees. An intimate, tremulous record, and an exquisite gem for audiophiles unafraid of lo-fi, we hear the chain-rattlings and wails of ghosts throughout it.

Review: Glasgow-based, Rome-born Loris S. Sarid, like many during the pandemic, found himself placing his focus in all new places once he was locked down with little to do. As such his close care for a little tomato plant, grown on a windowsill in his flat, gave him an unusual spark of inspiration which led to this album, Music for Tomato Plants. It is his homage to "the unapparent courage of simplicity, and the beauty and lightness of the most ordinary things." In real terms, it is a lush ambient exploration with melodies that are optimistic and hopeful. Sustained chords unfurl like new growth, fresh percussive lines emerge like ripened fruit and the whole thing is beautifully pure and innocent.