nunu: Things I wasn't able to tell you
Schole

Miho Ota & Paniyolo: Sora to Hana
Schole

Schole is known for bringing lovely music into the world, and these recent releases are perfect illustrations. Both are modest in length, but Things I wasn't able to tell you by Berlin-based pianist nunu (Raluca Alina Todea) and Sora to Hana by singer Miho Ota and guitarist Paniyolo (Muneki Takasaka) leave powerful impressions nonetheless. Each recording features songs of natural beauty, delicacy, and simplicity and plays like an intimate, home-recorded diary shared with the listener. They soothe with their serene tone, sparse arrangements, and open-hearted expressions, and, needless to say, both teem with affecting melodies that stay with you long after they're finished.

Kopfkino contributes electronics and programming to two tracks on nunu's follow-up to her self-titled 2010 mini-album, but the recording's otherwise all piano and keyboards. In keeping with the understated tone of the material, electronics are integrated tastefully as textural enhancement. During the wistful “Yesterdays” and “In Between,” Kopfkino's shimmer verges on subliminal—or maybe it just seems that way when the piano parts are so transfixing. Tunes such as “The 27th of February” and “Daydream” touch the heart for the directness of their expressions, with Todea opting for innocence and sincerity over cynicism. Whereas “Love You So” shows she's as comfortable crafting an electronics-styled keyboard arrangement as a minimal one for solo piano, she flouts expectations by performing “Only You Can Make Me Cry So Bad” on electric piano rather than acoustic.

That Todea is a classically trained pianist shows in the sophistication of her playing, but none of the ten pieces is treated as a self-indulgent exercise in virtuosic display. All are also concise statements, with only one pushing past the four-minute mark; they're long enough, however, to paint vivid pictures of carefree, child-like innocence. “The Fairy,” a wonderful case in point, concludes the release with three minutes of peacefully glimmering flourishes perfectly capable of transporting you into your favourite bed-time story.

Takasaka's issued a number of Paniyolo recordings on Schole, but on Sora to Hana he's paired with vocalist Miho Ota, and both benefit from the association. If their recording is even more atmospheric than nunu's, it's attributable to the recording circumstances: the nine songs on Sora to Hana were recorded in woods at Nagano on a sunny day in May 2021, with nature sounds and chirping birds audible parts of the soundtrack. The songs weren't spontaneously created at the site, however, but were instead developed through e-mail exchange prior to the recording, with Takasaka sending guitar parts to Ota and she adding vocal material to them. Again a peaceful mood dominates, with a tranquil tone set in “Overture” and carrying on thereafter. Simple melodies, uncluttered arrangements, and the softness of Ota's voice lend the songs an irresistible appeal.

The presence of bird chatter and environmental sounds enhances the music by accentuating the natural conditions under which the pieces were recorded. While the performances exude the unpolished quality of a relaxed rehearsal, that also merely makes the music more endearing. As the two work through the yearning melodies of the title song and its hypnotic “Sora to Hana” refrain, we feel as if we're being allowed to share in a private moment with the creators. Ota sometimes sings lyrics, but in some settings she uses her voice as effectively as a wordless counterpoint to Takasaka's acoustic guitar. As pretty as it is, the inclusion of “The First Noel” seems odd, though the late-January release date of the album might have something to do with why the Christmas song appears. Regardless, Sora to Hana is so charming, one can't help but hope it won't be the last time the two collaborate.

August 2022