Federico Albanese - The Blue Hour (LP)
- LP
- 1 piece(s)
- 2016
- 13 tracks
- 47 min
- neoclassical
The Blue Hour
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4.3
Average of 3 reviews
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A piano is akin to a book of poems that birds on the move refer to. Or perhaps it's a sky brimming with stars descending upon an abandoned glass factory? Isn't it also a dictionary of waves? Trust me when I say, it's all these things and so much more, particularly when the modern pianist/alchemist Federico Albanese embarks on his compositional voyages that glide through a mosaic of stunning illusions, or untold tales brimming with profound emotion. After experiencing 'The Houseboat and the Moon' (sincere gratitude to QuietCalm Records who persistently chased the powers that be and secured me a clear vinyl copy), my dreamlike state compelled me to immediately dive into The Blue Hour. It's an album that, much like Frahm’s 'Spaces', or Richter’s 'Blue Notebooks', elevates my humanity. The collection features unique short bursts of sound-clouds, to extended reflections on the piano as an all-encompassing spirit, showcasing the unity of human consciousness. Maybe a piano is a valley of nameless flowers that unlock the gates of spring. The album commences with an enigmatic 80 seconds of cosmic hum-drone, undulating into a labyrinth of sounds reminiscent of solar winds and space manipulation. It stands apart from the rest of the album like an undiscovered species. This theme resurfaces in the Interludes that appear in the second half. I pondered if the piano is truly a horizon stitching the seams of an ocean? The masterful fading of the introductory sensory swell (Nel Buio) into the track “Time has changed” has a dramatic impact, where the delicate piano sounds amplify into a highly gratifying 6 note repetition and playful background jangling. Through a distortion emerges the deeply resonant melody line, brimming with wisdom and charm. The unraveling that follows for about 6 minutes leads you to “Migrants,” where the composer, in my opinion, proves himself as the Master of Melodies. It's also immensely satisfying to witness the Italian-born, Berlin-based artist commenting on the political upheaval of our times. The tunes are sorrowfully evocative of the unbearable sadness of, to borrow Agamben’s term, “bare bodies” fleeing from harm, war, and famine towards the safety of gleaming shores, only to be huddled and cordoned off by fellow humans incapable of showing love and empathy. For addressing our political times, Federico Albanese earns my particular respect. The title track (arriving midway through the B side) is a treasure trove of absolutely luscious layers of strings and keys, bound together by a synth organ resonating with a 4 bar pattern. This bouncing pattern gathers the fine dust of high notes and ultimately glimmers with the momentum generated by delectable strings. This track contemplates electronic work through neoclassical lenses and explores melody as a rhythm (or vice versa). We are subtly prepared for the brilliantly glassy, or "Glass-ic" My Piano Night. Time decelerates. I hear my breathing become the background drones of this track. The heaving of lows arranges the crystal-shaped highs with meticulous attention to detail, with all the time in the world. The piece refracts light as if through a transparent fossil stone holding an ancient insect. Here, fragility is beauty. As if the piano is a midnight snowfall or the concentric patterns of vanishing ripples as it starts to rain on a lake. This masterpiece reminds me of a line penned by Leonard Cohen “There is a crack, a crack, in everything, that’s how the light comes in.” Federico Albanese’s The Blue Hour will show you precisely how, and you will also be aptly prepared for his 2018 “By the Deep Sea.” I can't express enough gratitude to QuietCalm Records for curating this. For those who will appreciate it, know that we will forever be bound as friends fortunate enough to have entered “The Blue Hour.”
The tunes are absolutely gorgeous, but the pressing's quality is quite disappointing. There's a lot of cracks that are really messing up the experience.
If you're into Ben Lukas Boysen and dustin ohalloran (more like lumiere than his solo piano stuff), you'll love this incredible album. It's a fantastic step up from his first release.
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