Julie Campiche's latest album, Unspoken, is a testament to her artistry as a harpist, composer, and visionary. The album's soundscapes are indeed magical, weaving together elements of classical music, Nordic ambient jazz, and experimental sounds, all while maintaining a sense of urgency and activism.
Campiche's intentions behind the album go beyond mere musical expression; they are deeply rooted in her commitment to sisterhood, as evidenced by the opening track "Anonymous". This piece pays homage to women who have inspired her, with Virginia Woolf quote repeated by a chorus of women's voices in different languages, culminating in a haunting melody. The harp lines are delicate yet powerful, evoking the memory of Grisélidis Réal, a Swiss artist and writer.
Another standout track is "Rosa", which honors the resolve of migrant workers with a lilting harp melody that shifts rhythmically to evoke the weary spirit of Andréa Bescond. Meanwhile, "Maman du Ciel" finds Campiche using her breath as an instrument, weaving an intricate pattern of in-and-out sounds.
The least jazzy of Campiche's projects yet, Unspoken showcases her ability to create music that transcends genre boundaries and invites listeners into a world of improvisation. Here she truly lets her artistic vision shine, rather than conforming to traditional expectations.
For fans of avant-jazz, this album is a must-listen, offering an immersive experience that seamlessly blends the ethereal with the urgent.
Campiche's intentions behind the album go beyond mere musical expression; they are deeply rooted in her commitment to sisterhood, as evidenced by the opening track "Anonymous". This piece pays homage to women who have inspired her, with Virginia Woolf quote repeated by a chorus of women's voices in different languages, culminating in a haunting melody. The harp lines are delicate yet powerful, evoking the memory of Grisélidis Réal, a Swiss artist and writer.
Another standout track is "Rosa", which honors the resolve of migrant workers with a lilting harp melody that shifts rhythmically to evoke the weary spirit of Andréa Bescond. Meanwhile, "Maman du Ciel" finds Campiche using her breath as an instrument, weaving an intricate pattern of in-and-out sounds.
The least jazzy of Campiche's projects yet, Unspoken showcases her ability to create music that transcends genre boundaries and invites listeners into a world of improvisation. Here she truly lets her artistic vision shine, rather than conforming to traditional expectations.
For fans of avant-jazz, this album is a must-listen, offering an immersive experience that seamlessly blends the ethereal with the urgent.