Simple questions sometimes require complicated answers. Félicia Atkinson knows this. During the finishing piece on her collaboration with Christina Vantzou she whisps words that, normally, could only stem from a child’s mouth, with unadulterated tenderness: »How can a boat float? How can a plane fly? How can a body swim? How can a person dream?« The naiveté of these questions is hard won.
Reflections Vol 3.: Water Poems is, in many ways, prim. It’s a combination of restrained ambient compositions and unassuming field recordings. Yet, the latter have been taped at placed that are culturally …rather charged: Delphi, Lesbos, and the Villa Medici in Rome. Added are lyric recitations in English and French that alternate between mythological allusions and mystic experiences of oneness. Without a doubt, the water poems are situated right in the heart of Western art history. That’s not a novum for either Atkinson or Vantzou.
And yet, despite their references, their playing is unpretentious. It feels like holding your head under water in a thermal bath, just listening, and starting to dream while doing so. It’s for people who’d prefer to read Ovid and Hesiod in the original – but only do so, because they want to revive the feeling of discovering myths as a child. To be filled with wonder. A complicated world sometimes requires naïve questions, too.
