Silence of Eclipse – Simonne Draper (reviewed by Dave Franklin)

Having initially been introduced to Simonne Draper via the exquisite single Accordiana, this first taste left me wanting more. And that is precisely what any single worth its salt should do. It seeks to entice the audience and tests the water for a full album to follow. That album, Silence of Eclipse, is now here, and if that first single promised something rather special, even its grace and gentle majesty didn’t quite prepare me for what was to follow.

Simonne Draper is a sonic explorer, it’s what she does and does brilliantly, creating contemporary pieces for the classical guitar, but even that description is a vague approximation of what is at work on this latest release. Across ten compositions and one remix, she weaves those six strings through musical landscapes draped in classical grace and folk sentiments, world music traditions and otherworldly sensations, delicate sonics and orchestral grandeur, graceful lulls and anthemic swells.

The opener, Eclipse, sets the tone for the album, with a flurry of arabesque guitar work dancing over a wash of strings that ebb and flow with the ever-changing intensity and atmosphere required. It is a piece that demonstrates the skill of her playing whilst also that Simonne Draper is all about serving the song rather than blowing her own trumpet, although I suspect she would be able to do that instrument justice too, if she chose too.

There are understated pieces such as Avantgardance (there is some fine wordplay to be found in the song titles), which seems to merely glide along on the sonic winds; the ethereal beauty of Ricordiana, which is threaded through with graceful piano lines and vocals used as instruments; and the darker and delicious moods of Glissandante.

There is room for a duet in the form of the intertwined, ornate yet somehow spacious guitars of Canzonetta Dell’ Acqua and even a remix of the opening track by Jon Kennedy, which reimagines it as a downtempo, chill-out piece, which is brilliant as it is perhaps unexpected.

And this last piece sums up Simonne’s attitude toward music. She may come from a world of formal training, classical composition and orchestral groups, but the boundaries she is pushing are more interesting than the journey that brought her here. Albums such as Silence of Eclipse prove that there is a beautiful space where classical grace meets world music traditions, where folk deliveries meet cinematic grandeur, where the formal world meets the exploratory one, where the past meets the present and where the purely analogue dances with digital dexterity.

And we find Simonne Draper making such excellent music in these beautiful thresholds and overlooked, liminal spaces.