Jussi Suonikko - Nocturnal Flowers [Review]


About Jussi Suonikko
I'd never heard of an octave violin before, but I'm now that little bit wiser thanks to Jussi Suonikko. He's a Finnish violinist, musician, sound artist and music technologist with a fondness for flitting between and fusing his pet genres, not to mention creating sound installations for notable cultural establishments. As well as his creative work, he makes microphones and music hardware, and also gets busy behind the mixing desk: offering mastering, mixing and engineering services for other artists, probably a smart move in today's music industry that doesn't favour new, or lesser-known artists.

Review
He's just released his debut solo album Nocturnal Flowers, and it's a bold statement of intent and a fine showcase for his musical talents. Suonikko is very much the star of the show, but he wisely invited Kielo Kärkkäinen to lend her voice to various passages, and Janne Tuomi to add some sparse, intermittent percussion, and both artists helped out with the arrangements.
I guess everything is relative, and whilst the album is billed as 'warm, atmospheric compositions', from my Portuguese vantage point the album has a chillier, somewhat desolate, although certainly atmospheric, vibe. 'Evening Primrose Opening' sets the album in motion with an aching heart, an early taste of Kärkkäinen's spectral scatting and Suonikko providing an edgy, improvised tone that suits the paranormal activity. 'Blooming Pariah' opens with a folkloric flourish, the violin's rootsier side then vying with its classical upbringing, whilst Tuomi adds the lightest of jazz percussion.
'Midnight Candy' takes the jazz bait and runs with it; a skittering rhythm anchoring the experimental bowing and softly hummed, wordless vocal. 'Moonflower' then offers the first true glimpse of Suonikko's solo prowess and classical roots, before 'The Abkhazian Blue' springs into evocative, percussion-assisted ethno-vaguery, a mournful tune that sounds like it originated thousands of miles to the east.
His broad musical tastes declared, Suonikko and crew then journey around sounds and worlds: exploring form and fancy, composed and improvised structures, flitting shamelessly but pleasingly between genres, joining disparate musical dots with exploratory zeal and singular vision. As mentioned, I'm not feeling much warmth, but there's certainly a glow from the musical synergy, beauty in the stark, minimal music, and the album radiates quality and promise.
For more neoclassical sounds you could do a lot worse than check out what Freya Arde is doing, I'm a fan.
Playlist Companion
Find Suonikko in the Slow Neoclassical Playlist.


