Christina Vantzou’s No.1: an incredible mix of classical elements and soft, swirling ambient blankets of sorrow. Her songs are consistent, yet each is distinctly different. I constantly find myself checking my music device for what song is playing, because I just have to remember what the title is so I can play it again later.
I actually heard her music for the first time earlier this year. It was on a compilation dedicated to Japan due to the horrible earthquake that ravaged it on March 11th. It was one of several songs on the compilation that stuck with me, and soon after I had to check to see if she had released any albums or EPs. After seeing that she lacked previous material, I decided to do some searching on her. I found her webpage, and in the news feed it said that she would be releasing an album very soon. However, this was exciting and frustrating news because there wasn’t a set date for the release. Soon after, I set up RSS feeds to let me know when it would come out.
Lo and behold, two months ago it finally popped up in my feeds, and I grabbed it immediately. I put on my headphones and pressed play, and I was not disappointed. The song I had heard on the compilation was among some really great songs, and each one of them had so much to give. Just the other day, I played it while reading The Road, and wow: talk about a perfect soundtrack.
The music is pretty dark and lonely, especially when the string sections bray out into long reverberations; but it’s done so eloquently and gracefully, that I can’t look at it other than something so beautiful and perfect.
It draws me in and leads me away from everything.