Review Summary: A typically compelling effort from a stalwart of classical-crossover
Being in essence a personal account of one’s confliction with the world and everything in it,
Elements is predictably laden with poignancy, to the point where a slight misstep could to bring the whole experience to an overindulgent demise. However, as the album teeters across the emotional tightrope, Ludovico Einaudi finds himself in his area of expertise. He effortlessly balances intimacy with isolation, subtlety with melodrama, and tranquillity with unease. To paraphrase the man himself,
Elements is an attempt to find parallels between “a seemingly chaotic mix of images, thoughts and feelings”, bringing to light a certain
togetherness – for lack of a better word – that all things in this world share. Ludovico has a gift in this regard; an ability to draw from our collective repertoire of inhibitions by way of exploiting our sensitivities, creating from them a piece of work that is broad in scope, but also concise, unified and touching.
“Petricor” begins the album on a solemn note, with an ever-delicate piano line laying the foundation. Before long, a pining violin trickles in, reciprocated by a cello that almost seems to croon the motif back to it – connected, but at the same time distant. The call-and-response nature of this track seems symbolic of a severed relationship, and the ensuing turmoil that unfolds in the days and perhaps weeks that follow. Situational heartache has a way of manifesting into something much more deep-seated, and while the yearning to re-connect may be there, the drive is invariably lacking. “Drop” is emblematic of this. It plods along at a snail’s pace – never dipping, nor rising – in a permanent state of dejection. There are brief attempts at summoning the energy to lift one’s heavy head over morning, so to speak, but as the sorrowful keys begin to whittle, what little energy that was mustered is instantly drained, and the subject regretfully lapses back into their slumber.
Elements does feel a little
too melancholy at times, but in it are passages teeming with optimism that shed light where one doesn’t always think to look. “Four Dimensions” is comforting, not really in the same way as a shoulder to lean on, but as a timely and welcomed distraction from our hardships. The blissful crescendos, peppered with tinselly chimes, are like the minor pleasures in life that remind us why it is even worth waking up sometimes. They signify that things will eventually pick up, and that our obstacles are only temporary. “Twice” feels like an extension of this concept, however ambivalent it may be. Underpinned by brisk percussion, it alternates between a somewhat ominous and dissonant soundscape, and one of resolution. Swinging from one end of the spectrum to the other and back, the song is symptomatic of the inevitable up-and-downs we’re set to encounter which, incidentally, is a remark that can also be applied to the album in its entirety.
Ludovico works to bring these parts together in a curiously similar way to which many of us experience our lives – everything on
Elements feels like a consequence of something else, but the journey is non-linear. It skips and jumps between chapters and backtracks where necessary, imploring you to reflect upon and learn from past trials while also gazing at the bigger picture ahead. However, it is unafraid to wallow in despondency at times, running the gamut of emotions that come with being in such a state of mind. Conflicted as
Elements may be on a conceptual level, is it nonetheless a beautiful and compelling tour that sees Ludovico at his most fragile.
