Woii, new cosmically-aligned art-songs from our favourite Finnish-Glaswegian psalmsorialist, Cucina Povera. It’s all in the title with this one, ‘Zoom,’ the pocket recorder and weapon of choice for field recordists the world over, which CP (aka Maria Rossi) uses to capture choral acappellas of potent mysticism.
At its best (and frequent) moments, the unadulterated acoustic timbre is enhanced by using little more than a loop pedal which wraps her voice around the concrète traces of her production techniques (such as using a coke bottle as a mesmerising, rhythmic pan-flute). The minimalist junkyard textures that form the foundation upon which her acappellas are throned is the basis for Zoom’s singular appeal, conjuring images of lost lovers moon dancing across the frozen peaks of the Ural Mountains. It’s enchantment flows from the same well as Meredith Monk’s ’71 masterpiece, ‘Key’ but crucially CP’s voice on tracks like ZOOM0010 and ZOOM0014 is much more prominent and clearly the star of the show, in all its naked glory. Think of any Joan le Barbara’s works, such as 'Voice is the Original Instrument' but unashamedly more vulnerable and unaffected. Rossi has taken a big risk on this one, laying bare the mechanics of her creative vision and we’ve got to say, it’s undoubtedly paid off in spades - perched right out on the edge of intrigue, Zoom is an intimate, celestial and abstract self-portrait of a person who’s progression as an artist is because of the limitations she’s set herself. A few ingredients can bare a dish worthy of infinite praise.