Interlude

Description

Existing in a liminal space between genres, INTERLUDE , the second album from composer, pianist and now singer HANAKIV is as mysterious as it is seductively unconventional.

First inspired by those crystallised moments where time almost stands still, pain hasnt yet fully set in, and happiness is still just a glimpse, it provides, all the same, a sense of hope that standing still is part of living. In its making, HANAKIV has created a space that allows her to address feelings long buried, whether the grief behind the lead single Sunbeams, where staccato rhythms punctuate murmured vocals; the eerie apparitions obscuring the innocence of Lastele, originally intended as a lullaby for her nephews; or the poignant torpor behind May Songs brittle blur of harmony and percussive pizzicatos.

INTERLUDEs range is further intimated by its contributors, including Portico Quartets Milo Fitzpatrick, who, as well as playing double bass throughout, co-wrote the refreshed long-term live favourite, Intro, and the eloquent closer, Stillness. Also present are saxophonist Pille-Rite Rei, cellist Joanna Gutowska, violinist Gabriel Green, and PIKE on drums, helping capture the instances HANAKIV calls in- betweens. Among these are two sunny mornings, years apart, during which the strangely forlorn yet haunting Hommikud coalesced.

Another significant turning point came with the writing of Numb. Before then, she confesses, I was under the impression I was making music about stillness. This made me realise it was about numbness instead, and how easy it is to mix them up. Listening to it, one gets a sense of what she means: though built around cascading piano lines, its tranquillity is undercut by unsettling swathes of cello strings, leaving the listener dazed. Id thought I was fine and functional, she elaborates, but I realised I wasnt feeling. I wasnt really living my life.

Back then, having completed a masters degree in Electroacoustic Composition at the Estonian Academy of Music and Theatre, shed left behind her familiar instrument for internships in Malm and Reykyavik.

After a while, albeit only appreciated in hindsight, it was as though a part of her had perished.

Finally able to play whenever she liked again, reignited her imagination, working on her own terms, all of it at home. I could literally record at midnight, she laughs. There’s a lot of felt on the piano due to neighbours and housemates, but I worked constantly, changing what I wanted. It was amazing, if I’m honest!