You can find beauty in music, and you can find music without beauty. But when beauty and music collide, it is like nothing else.
Fabrizio Paterlini’s newest album LifeBlood is one of those albums, where beauty lingers inside of each track. I have heard bits and pieces of his work before but had never sat down to hear an entire album until recently. And what I found was an astounding, beautiful shifting vessel of music.
Within the album description, Paterlini says that the album tracks were something he found on his hard drive:
“The music was clearly divided in two different categories, one including piano solo music and the other more cinematic acts, with piano playing together with strings and electronics in the mood of my previous “Secret Book” album I released back in 2017.
It was like these compositions were perfectly representing what I have been doing in the recent years, so I thought it would have been nice to include them as a whole in one single album, with two different souls.
It was important, then, to find the right way to express this concept, by using a proper title for this work: a single word, with two identifiable parts which, if separated, kept maintaining a unique meaning, but if melted together suddenly they found another significance.
When the word “Lifeblood” came to my mind, I immediately thought it was perfect: “Life” and “Blood” have their own meaning, but when used as one single word, they acquire another sense.
“Life” represents the first part of this work: a suite of six intimate piano solo songs, composed between 2019 and 2020. Some of them were composed while touring: the opening track, “Solitude”, is actually an improvisation which found its final form while touring in Utrecht, in the Netherlands, while “White Forest” was inspired by the beauty of the Russian city Kazan and all its surroundings.”
As someone who is not familiar with his previous works, I went in not really knowing what to expect. But I was left in the state one is in when music hits you on a deeper level in a force of connection and emotion alike.
And I believe that not knowing what to expect may have made the impact even stronger.
From the first track “Overture,” the music hits you - not in a violent manner but it reaches out, gently weaving as the waves drift their way to you. And you can feel the impact; it happens without warning but if you are open to the music, you will find that you can get so much out of an album like this.
The music is entirely solely instrumental - and I was touched by how much emotion there is within the sound, as it is not influenced by lyrical passages and dreams. All the dreams and hope and sorrow that you hear comes from within, comes from a sweet and intimate vessel of instrumental.
In many cases, it appears that there are a thousand emotions in a single note. But it does not clash. This shifting kaleidoscope of sound weaves and forms beautiful passages around your head, dancing, moving, caressing in the beautiful sense that belongs only to art.
These emotions and notes form this wonderful journey that evokes a sleeping sense: it compels you and stops you in your tracks. You find yourself sitting without outsider thoughts or noise; you find yourself sitting as the music drifts around and through you. Sometimes, you smile. Sometimes, you weep. But all times, there is an amazement seeping through, seeking, wondering.
The first half of the album is breathtakingly intimate, an element that is exhibited to pour freely. It is active music. Active in the elements used and the effects it produces. It is instantly captivating, gripping your senses in a hypnosis of light and sound.
Much of the tracks on the first half are shorter pieces, but this leads to an exhibit where there is no filler. There is only fascination, wonder, and wisdom pouring from these tracks.
The fascination, wonder, and wisdom continue the trails as the album goes on. This is raw, intimate perfection. Perfection is one of those words that I do not like to use as it is a word sometimes thought of to be impossible to achieve and impossible to put a definition to. I find myself refraining from using such words, but I will use the word ‘perfection’ in this case to be similar to ‘otherworldly’.
If this album were a book, it would be one of those stories where throughout all the worries, stress, and troublesome affairs, hope prevails. It is otherworldly that the strengths you hear in the beginning are not diminished by the end of the album. No, instead, they are pulled on and from throughout the album and exhibited stronger still in this beautiful vessel.
The beauty that holds you in its grasp and hypnosis from the intro of “Overture” to the conclusion of “Thoughts (Reprise)” makes for a truly lovely listening experience. Fabrizio Paterlini made this album with the thought of:
“I really hope you’ll take your time to listen to this music: use a pair of good headphones, if you wish, so you can be fully immersed in the healing sound of my piano and, hopefully, you can find some relief during the hard times we’re all living.”
And while it is almost difficult to summarize the sheer impact on LifeBlood, I find that Paterlini’s hope that his music will bring relief and healing to be the perfect sentiment. Because this is an album of beauty and emotion intertwined. Let yourself be a vessel; let the music weave its way across the universe and across the waves to your ears and heart; let yourself be moved in the sense that powerful music holds in its sound of beauty. All of your expectations and more will be met.
Hear LifeBlood at Fabrizio Paterlini (bandcamp.com)
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