Emanuele Errante - Yon (2020)

As a whole, ‘Yon’ seeks to discover older memories, looking to return to a time which can never be recaptured or repeated, but still intent on seeking them out and doing whatever it can to find them. They are moments to cherish, but memories can become buried in the detritus of more recent events and episodes, lost among the gathering, growing weeds or sitting under a pile of fallen leaves, which become more and more prevalent with every passing year.

Errante’s experimental creations are in the process of uncovering and unravelling, moving among the foliage, rustling against the speakers and the dry leaves, and trying to break free from their webbing. The music of Yon attempts to re-enter a world or a period in time which has largely been forgotten or erased altogether; the edges of its photograph are blotted out and the rest of it is fading away. Listeners can audibly hear it unfolding, as sounds skitter and more traditional melodies are scattered over the tracks. Like a map, Yon lays out its trek and the geography it has to cover. It doesn’t walk directly from point A to point B, but instead seems to wind and zigzag from one place to another in its physically-active search for the antiquated, be they memories, people, places, or emotions.

The modern classical compositions are imbued with piano, strings, and glints of ambient, but more experimental sources froth below its surface, occasionally appearing in the mind’s eye like a ripple of a remembered face or an encounter from long ago. The gentle motion of ‘Sguardi’ is as ambient as it gets, but there’s still a constant erosion taking place, its bubbling textures becoming reassuring rather than threatening; a sign of the music being at peace, contented.

Complementing the record are old clothbound maps and even older photographs, reinforcing the journey, the heart’s want to return to the past, and to happier days.