What does motherhood mean in an age of anxiety and fear? For Maria Papadomanolaki (Dalot), the question became especially salient when she lost her mother and gave birth to her second daughter against the backdrop of the invasion of Ukraine. A year-long, Crete to Hanoi conversation with Nhung Nguyen (Sound Awakener) led to the formation of Ianos, a fitting reference to the god who looks forward and back and from whom January gets its name.
Given the choice between empathy and despair, the two artists prefer the former. Their contributions are so intertwined that one cannot tell where one artist ends and the other begins; the textures feel like an embroidered cloth, passed woman to woman, nation to nation, a collaboration with its own metaphorical power. “Heart Continuum” is such a warm beginning that one expects nothing but comfort; the opposite, however, will eventually become true as the composers acknowledge the intimidating realities of the world. “Birth from Fire” is uncertain, tackling one note at a time like a toddler’s footsteps, acknowledging society’s tilt without succumbing to anomie. “Tone in A Minor” is set upon a click like an old camera, infused with loss, taking inventory of a valuable relationship.
While Janus looks forward and back, the cover image conveys a different message, one of calm, peace, and integration with nature. (The physical edition, creating a 3D image through a painted cover, is a marvel, an extension of the original art.) This is most apparent in the album’s central track, “When We Die Our Souls Become Nature.” While some nations are retreating from climate accords, many individuals are choosing to live more simply, not relying on governments to dictate their beliefs and their behavior. The track feels like balance restored. In title and tone, “Easter Church Bells” connotes hope, appealing to the highest ideals of Christians, although it is crucial to note that the album chooses no religion over another, offering instead a blend of perspectives: a path forward that involves a garden of ideas, as appealing as the closing, springlike sounds.
The album ends with its only vocal piece, “Body of Shells.” Dalot’s words are recited in reflection and in hope. Motherhood becomes a metaphor for possibility and change. The future generation need not be like the former. The earth has nurtured us, but she too needs nurture. The same is true of the children of earth – not only humanity, but the entire animal kingdom. “A mother is a boat out in the open sea, a body of shells lying on the beach.” Mysterious and alluring, the words are tumbled in waves of drone, like pebbles settling on the shore. In the end, the listener is left to wonder at the power of those who give birth, who nurture, who encourage and love, even as they watch the children of the earth plunder and destroy. (Richard Allen)
a closer listen 