80%

I was handed this album by someone I admire deeply — not only as a musician and performer, but also as an actor. We met in Warsaw, during a festival of post-punk and electronic music, of all places. That alone makes this gift more special. It felt unexpected, intimate. Before giving me the CD, Phil asked me: "Do you listen to classical music?" It caught me off guarThe truth is, I did. As a child, in primary school, I listened to a lot of it. And though I was later kicked out of music school — and should probably stay quiet when it comes to anything connected to Ryuichi Sakamoto and stuff — I can say one thing with certainty: this music is absolutely beautiful.
What Phil Von and pianist Rokas Zubovas created together, introduced by Phil’s wife Sakurako San, is something quietly exceptional. It’s a live recording — and you can feel it. Not just in sound, but in presence. Fragile tones glide like soft footsteps, sometimes with a subtle melodic chant that hovers above the piano like breath in cold air. The music unfolds like lace — intricate, delicate, almost whispered. The electronics never overshadow the piano. They support it, then respond, then gradually become equal partners in a shared emotional language. The voice doesn’t demand. It invites. It’s poetic without being abstract. It allows space for silence, for reflection, for losing yourself in tones rather than chasing meaning.
 Living as I do — surrounded daily by heavy sounds, bold statements, sharp beats — I forget how expressive subtlety can be. How powerful stillness is. Live at Kotryna reminded me. This isn’t a whisper of an album. It’s a clear, softly spoken invitation. Poetic, yes — but impossible to ignore. Phil’s voice is full of feeling — saturated with nostalgia, perhaps longing, sorrow, or quiet endurance. It’s the kind of voice that reflects whatever state you’re in when you listen. Everyone will find a different shade in it.
My most beloved piece is "The Storm Within." Maybe because I carry a storm of my own lately, and this track resonates — not by mirroring my chaos, but by cradling it. It doesn’t shout. It says, "I know what you’re feeling."
 This whole album is a meditation on beauty — the kind that doesn’t hit you over the head, but gently places its hands on your shoulders and says, "I’m here." If you’re searching for something quietly powerful for your Sunday night — this is it.
Pure beauty. Honest and emotionally resonant.

Author: khocico
Translator: khocico
Add date: 2025-03-30 / Music reviews