At the heart of Kieli’s debut album is tragedy and sadness, the capturing of a father and daughter’s final years together. On the surface you might not notice it though, as Kieli – the moniker of multi-instrumentalist and composer Elin Pöllänen – approaches life with an almost jubilant and rousing candour. She celebrates life instead of being drowned by grief. Spending the last years of her father’s life as his caregiver, she was able to treasure the time before his death, even as his ability to identify his daughter faded. “And when you can’t even remember my name / I will love you, and I will love you the same,” she promises on “Colours in the dark”. With each reiteration of the final line she drums out assurance after assurance to her father’s spirit.
If Pöllänen sounds wide-eyed on From Summer To Spring then that’s very much the intention. Inspired by her family’s Maundy Thursday tradition of gathering around the bonfire, “Palavu” shimmers like breath on a cold day, the accordion and autoharp adding a contrastingly homely warmth. “O” celebrates the disappearing interconnectedness of life, addressing mass extinction head on with a rallying call of chirpy multilingual vocal melodies. “I wanted ‘O’ to portray a sense of wonder for our planet and the impactful everyday encounters with nature that are often taken for granted,” Pöllänen elaborates. She may sound vibrant and spirited, but her call of “you’ll miss them when they’re gone” rings out poignantly not just for her late father, but more directly for the very real state of danger the natural world is in.
From Summer To Spring’s best moments come when the layers start adding up, showcasing Pöllänen’s adept hand at composing. “For Spring”’s pizzicato beginning is a little clunky, but once the sweeping strings and layered vocal melodies start adding up it swirls sweetly like a ripple of fruit through vanilla ice cream. Instrumental opening track “Cranes” (inspired by the yearly arrival of the titular birds on the meadow outside of Pöllänen’s family home) utilises dewy strings and piano, building to a lightly bombastic crescendo that fittingly wouldn’t be out of place on a nature documentary. The other instrumental offering, “I felt what it all felt like,” adds splashing drums and shimmering percussive touches, making for an exuberant few minutes of excited motion.
It’s the way that Pöllänen wears the themes of change and transformation on her sleeve here that resonates. She gazes at wonder at the world around her as the seasons change, and even when she’s not singing in English – she also sings in Swedish, Finnish, and the endangered Karelian language Livvi – her enchanted disposition is unmistakable. (The multilingual approach also makes for a tapestry of vocal sounds and inflections, as well as weaving together influences from different realms, like Nordic folk, chamber pop, and indie ambience.)
There’s sorrow behind her enraptured eyes, but if Pöllänen ever sounds like she’s shedding tears, then they are undoubtedly tears of joy. “I will forever be grateful that I got to walk alongside my father as a daughter and caregiver and that in our home, integrity, love and joy reigned, and routines became sacred rituals,” she says. From Summer To Spring is a document of this time, spinning it into Pöllänen’s familial traditions. Like they would gather around to envisage what kind of world should be birthed from the ashes of the Maundy Thursday bonfire, they will no doubt sing these songs of remembrance too.
