Italian prog has always had a knack for blending reverence with audacity, and RaraOvis' debut Ne Sveleremo L'Essenza slots neatly into that tradition. It's lush, symphonic, and proudly indebted to its forebears, yet it manages to carve out a contemplative, classically‑tinged identity of its own. In an era of playlists and short attention spans, the decision to anchor the record with a 22‑minute suite feels almost defiant—a statement of intent. The project is helmed by keyboardist Leonardo Pegoraro, but this isn't a one‑man show. Fabio Cinti and Irene Manca lend their voices, Matteo Ricci's guitars provide both shimmer and bite, and Jacopo Gabutto and Osvaldo Loi bring woodwinds and strings into the fold. Hovering above it all is Fabio Zuffanti, a veteran of modern RPI, whose guiding hand ensures the album sits firmly in the lineage of Le Orme, PFM, and the other titans of Rock Progressivo Italiano. Primi Passi is a gentle overture, piano and flute sketching a pastoral landscape while the rhythm section keeps things grounded. It's not about fireworks; it's about atmosphere. Think of it as the band's first cautious steps into the light—like opening the shutters on a villa at dawn. The warmth promised in the title of Sento Calore arrives via glowing synth textures and a vocal duet that leans romantic. There's a subtle Mediterranean sway here, reminding us that Italian prog thrives as much on sensuality as on complexity. It's prog as candlelight dinner rather than laboratory experiment. Luci A Mandorla is a more enigmatic piece—angular piano lines and shimmering guitar figures create a twilight mood. This is the impressionistic side of RPI, where melody dissolves into texture and ambiguity becomes its own reward. With I Contorni Dell'Alba dawn breaks with clarity: acoustic guitar and flute interplay evoke serenity, before electric guitar adds bite. It's a bridge between the shorter vignettes and the looming epic, a hinge track that opens the door to grandeur. Ne Sveleremo L'Essenza is the album's beating heart, the centerpiece, a 22‑minute suite that unfolds like a narrative. Delicate piano passages give way to symphonic swells, classical motifs weave in and out, and recurring themes create a sense of dialogue. It's not about virtuoso solos—it's about flow, patience, and the slow reveal. Think of it less as a rock song and more as a cathedral tour: you're meant to wander, gaze upward, and let the architecture speak. Structurally, Ne Sveleremo L'Essenza unfolds slowly, favouring cyclical forms and modal frameworks over conventional development. Motifs recur like mantras, gradually shifting in emphasis or density, and the harmonic language remains rooted in ancient-sounding modes that resist easy resolution. Rhythm, when present, is more implied than stated, giving the music a floating, suspended quality that encourages deep listening rather than passive consumption. In terms of lineage, RaraOvis may resonate with listeners drawn to the darker edges of neofolk, medieval sacred music, or the more austere moments of groups like Comus, yet the album never feels derivative. Its strength lies in its seriousness of purpose and its refusal to dilute its vision for accessibility. It is not an album that demands attention through volume or drama—it earns it through focus, atmosphere, and a quiet sense of conviction. For those willing to meet it on its own terms, it offers a deeply immersive experience, one that feels less like a collection of tracks and more like a single, slow-burning invocation. For seasoned fans of RPI, it's a worthy addition to the canon; for newcomers, it's a gentle yet substantial entry point. Structured, narrative‑driven, steeped in tradition yet fresh enough to avoid pastiche—Ne Sveleremo L'Essenza is proof that Italian prog still knows how to whisper, swell, and soar. **** David Carswell Where to buy? |
