why we love this
A marble sculpture washes up on a deserted shore. Its original form has softened with the caress of the sea. The tide rises to take it once more. It floats back with grace, freed from the earth, now an instrument of the ocean that reverberates along with currents.
about the record
While on the island of Syros in the Aegean Sea for a film festival performance, Christina Vantzou experienced what she characterized as “a moment of focus” – a specific vision for the sprawl of raw recordings she’d been amassing for her fifth album. Upon relocating to the Cycladic island of Ano Koufonisi she situated herself outside at a patio table with a laptop and headphones, taking brief breaks to swim, and began the “reductive process” of shaving and shaping the source material into uneasy but lyrical movements, alternately austere and adorned with strange inflections: glottal groaning, cavernous water, glittering eddies of modular synth, languorous silences. Mixing the pieces herself without outsourcing to an engineer compounded the intimacy and autobiographical dimension of the music; she refers to No. 5 as “almost like a first album.”
Drawing on sessions staged in February 2020, Vantzou’s editing instincts emphasize process and isolation, spotlighting resonance and restraint, liquidity and long tails. Fleeting configurations of piano, wind, strings, synthetics, and field recordings, these are spaces as much as compositions, surreal grottos of shifting light, suffused with a sense of invisible divinity. Although 17 musicians appear on the record, the proceedings feel minimalist and malleable, sculpted from interstitial moments and oblique synchronicities. The definition of a composer as “one who joins things” is here both plumbed and proven. Vantzou describes No. 5 as “a letting go,” a place of “soft borders,” unfixed and undefinable.
- 1 - Enter 3:40
- 2 - Greeting 2:02
- 3 - Distance 0:49
- 4 - Reclining Figures 2:46
- 5 - Red Eel Dream 4:03
- 6 - Dance Rehearsal 1:35
- 7 - Kimona I 4:00
- 8 - Tongue Shaped Rock 3:22
- 9 - Memory of Future Melody 5:08
- 10 - Kimona II 6:22
- 11 - Surreal Presence (for SH and FM) 2:57
€32,00
in stock
- 1 - Enter 3:40
- 2 - Greeting 2:02
- 3 - Distance 0:49
- 4 - Reclining Figures 2:46
- 5 - Red Eel Dream 4:03
- 6 - Dance Rehearsal 1:35
- 7 - Kimona I 4:00
- 8 - Tongue Shaped Rock 3:22
- 9 - Memory of Future Melody 5:08
- 10 - Kimona II 6:22
- 11 - Surreal Presence (for SH and FM) 2:57
why we love this
A marble sculpture washes up on a deserted shore. Its original form has softened with the caress of the sea. The tide rises to take it once more. It floats back with grace, freed from the earth, now an instrument of the ocean that reverberates along with currents.
about the record
While on the island of Syros in the Aegean Sea for a film festival performance, Christina Vantzou experienced what she characterized as “a moment of focus” – a specific vision for the sprawl of raw recordings she’d been amassing for her fifth album. Upon relocating to the Cycladic island of Ano Koufonisi she situated herself outside at a patio table with a laptop and headphones, taking brief breaks to swim, and began the “reductive process” of shaving and shaping the source material into uneasy but lyrical movements, alternately austere and adorned with strange inflections: glottal groaning, cavernous water, glittering eddies of modular synth, languorous silences. Mixing the pieces herself without outsourcing to an engineer compounded the intimacy and autobiographical dimension of the music; she refers to No. 5 as “almost like a first album.”
Drawing on sessions staged in February 2020, Vantzou’s editing instincts emphasize process and isolation, spotlighting resonance and restraint, liquidity and long tails. Fleeting configurations of piano, wind, strings, synthetics, and field recordings, these are spaces as much as compositions, surreal grottos of shifting light, suffused with a sense of invisible divinity. Although 17 musicians appear on the record, the proceedings feel minimalist and malleable, sculpted from interstitial moments and oblique synchronicities. The definition of a composer as “one who joins things” is here both plumbed and proven. Vantzou describes No. 5 as “a letting go,” a place of “soft borders,” unfixed and undefinable.
