NES - Ahlam
ACT – ACT9865-2
Nesrine Belmokh: cello, voice; Matthieu Saglio: cello, vocals; David Gadea: percussion
Recorded June 2017 by Nicolas Baillard at Studios La Buissonne, Pernes les Fontaines, France.
The music of this CD combines a host of styles, although overwhelmingly I was reminded of the emotion of Fado or Flamenco tunes. Perhaps this combined Iberian – Arabic impression is not so surprising, given that trio live in Valencia, Spain and combine different nationalities (Gadea is Spanish, Saglio is French and Belmokh French-Algerian). Belmokh sings effortlessly in Arabic, English or French. On several of the tunes, Saglio adds a tenor counterpoint to Belmokh’s rich voice, adding further emotional depth to the songs. Belmokh’s lyrics (at least those in English and French) seem to offer a sense of hope in an unforgiving world, and this mix of pessimism and optimism is well reflected in the thoughtful compositions here. ‘Ahlam’ means dream in Arabic and is the opening track on this set.
Throughout the set, both cellists demonstrate a breadth of styles, using an effortless classical technique to re-interpret many different influences. If you consider the way in which Arabic music builds around the combination of oud, violin, nay (flute) and qanun (zither), together with the riq or table, you can begin to appreciate how Belmokh’s compositions are representing the sounds palette of these instruments through the use of cellos. Across several of the tunes, the two cellos use pizzicato (both individual notes and strummed) to create a whole range of effects that suggest various stringed instruments, not only sounding like Flameco guitar but also like oud (the latter especially on ‘Houzni’, track 3). At other times, the use of arco underlines chorus or key lyrical themes, or (again on ‘Houzni’) creates a lamentation that sounds less like a cello than a violin. Gadea’s subtle and intelligent percussion echoes the cello lines, and punctuates the lyrics – placing a gentle cymbal between verse and chorus or on a specific line in the song.
This is a set that grows on the listener with each encounter, and the subtlety and richness of the tunes gradually reveal themselves.
Reviewed by Chris Baber
ACT – ACT9865-2
Nesrine Belmokh: cello, voice; Matthieu Saglio: cello, vocals; David Gadea: percussion
Recorded June 2017 by Nicolas Baillard at Studios La Buissonne, Pernes les Fontaines, France.
The music of this CD combines a host of styles, although overwhelmingly I was reminded of the emotion of Fado or Flamenco tunes. Perhaps this combined Iberian – Arabic impression is not so surprising, given that trio live in Valencia, Spain and combine different nationalities (Gadea is Spanish, Saglio is French and Belmokh French-Algerian). Belmokh sings effortlessly in Arabic, English or French. On several of the tunes, Saglio adds a tenor counterpoint to Belmokh’s rich voice, adding further emotional depth to the songs. Belmokh’s lyrics (at least those in English and French) seem to offer a sense of hope in an unforgiving world, and this mix of pessimism and optimism is well reflected in the thoughtful compositions here. ‘Ahlam’ means dream in Arabic and is the opening track on this set.
Throughout the set, both cellists demonstrate a breadth of styles, using an effortless classical technique to re-interpret many different influences. If you consider the way in which Arabic music builds around the combination of oud, violin, nay (flute) and qanun (zither), together with the riq or table, you can begin to appreciate how Belmokh’s compositions are representing the sounds palette of these instruments through the use of cellos. Across several of the tunes, the two cellos use pizzicato (both individual notes and strummed) to create a whole range of effects that suggest various stringed instruments, not only sounding like Flameco guitar but also like oud (the latter especially on ‘Houzni’, track 3). At other times, the use of arco underlines chorus or key lyrical themes, or (again on ‘Houzni’) creates a lamentation that sounds less like a cello than a violin. Gadea’s subtle and intelligent percussion echoes the cello lines, and punctuates the lyrics – placing a gentle cymbal between verse and chorus or on a specific line in the song.
This is a set that grows on the listener with each encounter, and the subtlety and richness of the tunes gradually reveal themselves.
Reviewed by Chris Baber
