Review Summary: A refuge from your burdens
There’s no easy way to kick off a review for the legendary Tenhi after a twelve-year stretch since
Saivo, so I’m just gonna go for it.
Valkama is the product of stubborn patience. Not necessarily because of the time gap, but rather the structure and pace of the songs themselves. I don’t remember the last time I heard an album in less of a hurry than this; many of these moments seem to just exist as naturally as the grass grows in your back yard. There are some sweeping cinematic highs – storms and obstacles – but much of
Valkama coasts on the minimalistic and dark folk stylings Tenhi have been experts at since the late ‘90s. There’s been a tweak to the dark aspect, but we’ll get to that.
The creative process behind
Valkama is intriguing right off the bat, and it makes for the most personal Tenhi album to date. It started out as a tale about escaping a ravaged and blackened settlement – the only way forward through harsh waters which lead to an island of the dead. But Tenhi had to ask themselves a hard question during the writing process: what do you do when your fairy tale starts to mirror real world horrors around you? Several adjustments of their canoe later, Finland’s folk giants had their eyes set on a new destination – one with quite a bit more illumination to light their path. What was once a sorrowful and dreary journey was given new life and optimism. The album title translates to “shelter”, and this album is an audible timeline of the many years it took to reach that special place.
Tenhi’s 6th official LP exudes a sense of inner peace with its lush mixture of acoustic guitars, strings, flutes, and keys – sometimes topped off with hushed and yearning vocals. It’s still full of the eerie soundscapes the band have a knack for – chants and flutes intertwine for the more urgent, ritualistic strokes of “Rintamaan – but there’s no denying the air is warmer this time around. The band wrings as much emotion as possible from even their most naked branches. The sparse “Kesavihanta” is a medley of soft guitars that features a Tim Burton-esque choir. While “Rannankukka” makes a splash with a steady, tribal drum pattern. It’s all the glorious little things that make this album such a magnetic ride.
Throughout
Valkama, the listener is constantly reminded of the power of the piano; intricate, weeping notes carry more weight than an instrumental assault ever could. The album is reflective throughout, but at its best, it’s simply revitalizing. “Hele” has a special glow to it as it signals one of the most majestic moments of the journey: that stretch past the halfway point where the crew are overwhelmed by the stars illuminating the vast sky. Each delicate note cuts through the fog with unmistakable clarity. It’s quite insane how vivid everything is here – every color of the horizon and ripple in the water. As tempted as I am to take the time to decipher every lyric, I don’t have to. With Tenhi, the emotive songwriting does the heavy lifting in that regard; you never have to second-guess your surroundings.
I love that
Valkama seems to expand on the artwork of the band’s
Folk Aeshetic compilation. A skeleton adorned with flowers is pretty much a flawless representation of the band’s sound: always finding the raw beauty in even the most melancholic or frightening moments. In many ways, this feels like the ultimate meditation album. In a world so obsessed and numbed by instant gratification, it seeks out the exact opposite. This makes it an escape that’s as demanding as it is powerful, but so very rewarding. “Aina sininen aina” is the moment you can finally see your destination, and it fittingly contains some bright guest vocals to go with its soothing and slow-building melody. The vibes of floating through the clouds are strong here, with layered choral singing over the most delicate swell of bass and raindrop piano effects. As a bookend, it provides a welcome contrast to the more melancholic and wistful “Saattue”, the most expansive track on
Valkama.
If we’re being real, pointing out these specific songs seems like a cruel injustice in the face of a vast and poignant 70-minutes.
Valkama is clearly meant to be digested in its entirety, with as few distractions as possible. It thrives by invoking a connection to nature, tapping into our spiritual side we sometimes forget even exists (or at least I do, I need to get out more). By the time you row into the shore of your destination, you’ll be exhausted, but in a good way. There’s no shortage of discovery or passion on to be found here. Even after such a long time since their last album, they’ve managed to create something as impactful and therapeutic as anything else in their career. You can legitimately
feel the amount of dedication and love that was poured into every minute. What an experience. There’s little doubt Tenhi are still the holy grail of earthy and celestial folk music – this time with just a bit more light to navigate the shroud of darkness.
