By Jouko Kirstilä Kuvat 16.10.2011
Neat, beautiful, artistically spiritual, lush, calmly adaptable and pleasing to the listener's ears. This is the first impression of this 79-minute CD Colors of red island, released by Claudio Scolar as early as last spring. As the band leader, this is his Fifth Album. Sixteen years have passed since the first Landskap A, so he has not been in any hurry in terms of production.

Scolari is a versatile musician who plays flute, piano and synthesizers on this record in addition to drums. Daniele Cavalca responds with almost the same arsenal - in addition to drums, there is a vibraphone and double bass. Also present is Claudio's son Simone Scolari with his trumpets. The playing of the record thus progresses in a rather strange composition, but all the more interestingly with the help of two drummers and one trumpet player.

The listener is wrapped up in a musical realm that seems inaccessible, far away on some frontier of twilight, in an unknown that is impossible to encounter. It’s a hand-untouched world of fog, where ghosts move almost imperceptibly, leaving behind a tangled cloud formation of smoke. You may need a lifeguard to help you pass through the black hole that is in front of you. You want to get in from it to listen to more of this alluring musical attraction, accompanied by intuition. You’re detached from reality, from your daily nerve-wracking routine, the feeling is starting to be euphoric, your feet detaching from the ground - you’re taking off - you’re traveling somewhere - your destination unknown. You glide in the sky like an eagle spreading its wings preying on a meal of the day. You’ll experience a sense of freedom - you’re somewhere in a colorful carousel surrounded by magic - on a red island.

You’re on your way to some foggy network where it doesn’t matter if the sun is shining or not. You will be overcome by a feeling of freedom, you can breathe freely, you will get your lungs full of oxygenated fresh air. The landscape changes even then, you hear the roar of drums, the quiet groaning of the flute, the faint tactful squeaking of felt blocks on the Vibraphone’s keyboards, the faint humming of the trumpet, the mega-organic hum of the “synth” and the vague spray, the low Kumu of the bass. You have reached your destination - a feeling of relief, a numb relaxation of the muscles. You can’t get up - your knees can’t stand it - lactic acid has disappeared from your musculature. You’ve dived into the other side of the sound barrier, the world of sound produced by Claudio Scolar and Daniele Cavalca, the atmosphere of bliss.

The record is pretty much the same kind of ghostly bass-drums combination show, which is highlighted energetically spectacularly especially in the song Walt’s Waltz, where Scolari puts the films hard. Infinite silence is a kind of “art for homes” show where Claudio blows the flute slowly, jumping like a cock on a stick with discs from time to time as Daniele claps his hands on the drum. It’s like straight out of the night of the arts, rising and falling, comfortably meandering duo work. The subtle Winds of Metamorphosis breathes pleasurely in the rhythm of Simon's trumpet, alone, ethereally light and airy, the echo responding from something long slowly and unnoticed, longingly hazy, like a single autumn mist of longing for spirits. Someone knocks against it - it’s the wavy lapping of a piano. The web of utopia of outer space slowly encloses the listener.

Improvisation is a kind of dream fulfillment - a vision of perfection - that musicians may strive for without ever finding it. Belief in the possibility of improvement, learning new things drives towards new goals and objectives. There are always new ideas that are being pursued even faster. Belief in the future is hard, sometimes there is that labyrinth that leads to perfection. (JKi)