#adele h

Major Women that inspired me in last few years and some that have always inspired me

Rosa Balistrieri — “Mi votu e mi rivotu”

The power of a voice in a misogynist world

Bjork — “ancestress”

The intimacy of a daughter and her dying mother

Daniela Pes — “A Te Sola”

A new discover from Italy, the tradition melts with synths

Clarissa Connelly — “Holler”

Unexpected melodies that makes me wanna compose more

Nina Simone — “Summertime”

One of the biggest inspirations of my life

Weyes Blood — “Andromeda”

An ancient voice in a contemporary world

Antonia Pozzi — Seven Poems

The twilight poems of a woman struggling in the horrific Italian 1930s

Vandana Shiva — Monocultures of the Mind: Perspectives on Biodiversity and Biotechnology

This book offers a change in perspective

Hanna Arendt - Eichmann In Jerusalem

Arendt’s book opened the heart while opening the brain

Juliette de Baïracli Levy and Adaya

The title track, for instance, begins in a regular, well-mannered series of piano arpeggios—if you grew up in the 1970s, you might get a whiff of Chicago’s “Color My World.” But it’s the singing that catches you up as it bends and pulls and stretches at the melody in slithery flourishes. Adele H has a way of softening, almost swallowing the consonants so that it’s hard to hear the words, but that just makes it easier to focus on the sonic pleasure of her blues-inflected delivery. By the cut’s end, the piano fades away, and the artist layers crystalline counterpoints on top of each other, the word “impermanence” interleaved in luminous harmonies.

“Lucia” is quicker, more animated, almost jazzy in the way that Adele riffs on words, stringing them out in quick bursts of bursts of dazzling melody then cutting back to a spare chant. One piano note repeated holds down the rhythm, but the singing unfurls in free, organic profusion.

The album includes alternate takes of five of its cuts, though the differences are very subtle. The second version of “Bubble of Gold” seems a bit more emphatic and full of drama than the first, but “April”’s stormy bursts of piano and skittering vocals seem much the same in both takes.  

These works are moody and introspective. You feel almost as if you’re eavesdropping on some private reverie. Adele H muses on the personal—family, children, female empowerment—and explores the shape and possibility within each melodic phrase. She might be thinking it through as the tape rolls. The music comes out fresh and unstudied and lovely.