Label: Pivec
Release date: 01.12.2018
Production: Žiga Rezar, Jernej Kržič, Luka Osmani
Length: 42.05 min
Genre: Folk / Jazz / Blues / Alternative Rock
Rating: 9.5 / 10
Centenaries are a handful. This time, one such jubilee hit Slovenian ballet and SNG Maribor at the same time. And since the head of SNG Maribor, choreographer Edward Clug, happily realized that it’s also exactly a hundred years since the publication of Josip Vandot’s tale “Kekec na hudi poti”, he got the idea of setting a ballet performance to music, based on one of Kekec’s adventures. So, score a ballet about Kekec? Then you turn to Boštjan Narat. That way you adapt the tale, main characters and all, and breathe a modern dose of rock’n’roll into it. In Katalena’s case, that artistically self-sprung “folk blues jazz alter rock” mix. A brilliant mess, isn’t it? But let’s take it slow. Either way, you hold on to the folksiness of the Slovenian geographic roots, and Kekec in this production rings out purebred Slovenian in every single second. Katalena and Clug have collaborated in a similar way before, when they took on the story of the water man.
Katalena are something else. The band keeps music critics seriously busy with its artistic exploits. In a good way. They knock you off your feet and surprise you. Constantly. This time too, I’d rather not get “tangled up” in the trap of overcomplicating things with the write-up that follows, or well… we’re already there.
Out of Vandot’s three “versions of Kekec”, they decided to pick the tale in which Pehta shows up as one of the central characters. So they went with “Kekec na volčji sledi”, published in 1922. Katalena, as a crew, are simply at home with challenges like this. No need to make a big fuss about it, especially when it’s time to dig out some playfulness, lucidity and a measure of childlikeness, always accompanied by a playful and easily accessible way of creating music (and poetry), with which Katalena, armed with what you might call “the holy simplicity of innate talents”, effortlessly knock on the doors of the hearts of the youngest listeners and theatergoers. We experienced that not long ago with the band’s activities around the release of the album “Enci benci Katalenci” (2015) – RockLine review HERE. Even though an album built on the concept of setting children’s counting rhymes to music is miles away from the tale of Kekec, a child’s imagination ties the two concepts together. At the same time, the band’s artistic reach is so strong and all-pervading that every single work of theirs, even when it’s knocking on the door of younger listeners, is equally relevant to anyone who has even a slight taste for eclectic music.
With the music, adaptation and stage interpretation of the album “Enci benci Katalenci”, the band got closer to the youngest listeners of music. Kekec and the scoring of the children’s ballet is a different, new story, and yet it carries a few parallels. Not only did Katalena use a slightly adapted version of the original from “Enci benci Katalenci” for the track Bam Bam, and slyly slip parts of the track Gospod in gospa from that same album into the track Cundrbundr, they also modernized the characters, just as they modernized the counting rhymes. It’s especially nice that Pehta, whom we all remember as something terribly scary and even wicked, is presented in a much brighter light, that is, as a classic healer who, in boundless loyalty to her senses and instincts and thus against the rules of the modern-day inquisition (read: the pharmaceutical lobby), doesn’t use pills but gathers all her medicines in nature, knows the right doses, the right combinations and concentrations of everything nature has to offer, and where every (infamous) poison becomes a medicine in the right dose. So a sublime message is also woven into this modernized character: that truth and difference are something the system fears, because they can move the masses to rise up against it. So it carries a note of rebellion. In this respect Pehta is a far bigger rebel than some (small and elusive, though otherwise brave) Kekec. Pehta is an exceptional connoisseur of herbs and maybe even a shaman. Because of most people’s fear, she’s been pushed out high into the mountains, where she lives completely alone. But she has a pronounced flaw that complicates everything. Her heart melts when she hears singing. Especially if it’s gentle and beautiful. After all, a woman’s soul. From here on you all know the story. Kekec rescues Mojca, does his chores for Aunt Pehta and finally (smoothly, even chivalrously), in a very friendly way, tricks her. Well, the ending is actually interesting, with Pehta and Kekec cheerfully waving each other goodbye. An ending happy for both sides (the minority and the majority). Pehta stays free and survives, while Kekec, as the official hero of the story, simply goes back to the gray embrace of conformism. Pehta is actually a positive character in this version, and the creators of this project are sending an important message here: that difference has to be accepted, because it is simply a fact, the truth. Everything else is fear and running away from it.
When you listen to this little record, there’s plenty of mystique and magic, the mystery of myths and legends from Alpine peaks and valleys (the heart of Špik and Škrlatica), while the listener’s imagination also creates pictures of different impressions and feelings, unlike the film and reading the tale. Helping with that are the slightly adapted (updated) lyrics of the originals (Pehta’s song), the spoken word itself and plenty of tracks that put the instrumental side in the dominant position. The band mostly used its own original music, but of course the famous leading motif of Kekec’s song (Vodopivec’s motif) is present here and there, which is a very welcome, if not essential, integration, since it strengthens the red thread of the story. The band masterfully weaves this motif into its own artistry, which dominates the arrangements, while Vodopivec’s motif works as an extra spice or a welcome marker in this respect. The tracks Kekčeva pesem and Kekčeva pesem – Paglavc mali are logically linked by motif, only they’re radically reworked in the arrangements (one is an instrumental, the other has vocals). The modulation somewhere in the middle of both versions of this track behaves differently in each version, yet it’s a downright brilliant trick that cements the art eclecticism of the release and the band. If Kekčeva pesem is (so to speak) half-original, Mojčina pesem isn’t original at all, but it’s once again excellently adapted and works as “Katalena-like” as it gets, and if I’m not mistaken, Nana hasn’t set it to music yet.
A very important factor across these good 40 minutes of Kekec’s story is the spoken, or read, word, or the combining of the read word with music in the background. It builds drama, tension itself, a state of curiosity, and sharpens the theatrical reach of the concept. Katalena once again present themselves as an exceptional crew. Once again they approach the interpretation and arrangements in the best possible light and as heartfelt as can be. In every respect the release delivers 100% of Katalena’s self-sprung artistry. Narat cranks up the guitar the “rocker way” too, his motifs weaving in elements of blues. Gombač is, of course, omnipresent, loosening up structures that would otherwise feel stiff without him. With his solo flashes on a chosen series of wind instruments, as well as slipping in jazz mischief. He adapts masterfully to the arrangements. Even in the subtle and calm parts, where the moment of mythical mysteries comes to the fore (Jutro, Pehtin tango), he brings a phenomenal contrast. Particularly in the calm parts, the refinement of Polona Janežič on keyboards takes the initiative. An extraordinary contrast also comes from the idea-driven insight of Tibor Mihelič Syed, dominating the realm of low tones (Rožletove sanje). Vesna is again phenomenal in the track Kekčeva pesem – Paglavc mali, where, with a note of dictation in the verses, she gradually builds up the atmosphere, while in Pehtina pesem her pointed sensuality “tears at the listener’s heart”. The band also handles modulations excellently, reinforcing the polished art and folk rock character of the tracks. This time the band again used an arsenal of “unusual tools of sonic excess” for extra seasoning here and there, from jaw harp, theremin, banjo to ukulele and more. After the whistled intro to Pehtina pesem (the Vodopivec motif is already used once), the leading phrase (carried by guitar and clarinet) surprises, one that Jethro Tull would gladly have used in 1970 for the album “Benefit”, had they thought of it back then. The modulation somewhere in the middle of the track is a downright brilliant trick that cements the art eclecticism of the release. Who still rules in this quintet? Magic.
“Kekec”, directed by the concept of Boštjan Narat and Edward Clug and musically interpreted by the lineup of Katalena, combined with the spoken word, fires on all cylinders and is wonderfully surprising. This story has been skillfully updated for new times. The artistry of Katalena responds in such a chosen artistic environment with full radiance, self-sprung and once again unique.
The album itself is easy to listen to completely on its own, without a thought for the children’s ballet this music belongs to. So it could fire up entirely by itself. That means that, artistically, it doesn’t even need the collaboration with ballet. Just Josip Vandot as the starting point. It works as if Katalena had conceptualized it all by themselves. The spoken word breathes some (nostalgic) content into it, reminiscent of the times when Fran Albreht read out the tale of Martin Krpan in front of TV screens.
One more small, marginal and strictly optional interjection of passing reflection. It’s debatable how the modern Kekec, in this bold musical transformation by Katalena and the children’s ballet, will even manage to draw the attention of kids who increasingly forget their Slovenian roots, are programmed from the get-go (indirectly in a Huawei way, too) to seek their bread abroad, and whose every sentence, this evidently lost generation, is jauntily mixed with a hefty crop of anglicisms. We, the “old uncles and aunts”, no longer even understand what language they’re communicating in.
author: Aleš Podbrežnik
Track list:
1. Avizo
2. Kekčeva pesem
3. Pehtin tango
4. Večer
5. Mojčina pesem
6. Galop
7. Kekčeva pesem – Paglavc mali
8. Cundrbundr
9. Pehtina pesem
10. Rožletove sanje
11. Bam bam
12. Jutro
14. Finale
Music performed by: Katalena
Vesna Zornik – vocals
Boštjan Narat – guitar,…
Polona Janežič – keyboards
Boštjan Gombač – clarinet, whistles, saxophone and other sound-makers,…
Tibor Mihelič Syed – bass guitar,…
Robert Rebolj – drums, percussion
Spoken word:
Katja Preša
Blaž Šef
