In "Àlea", Andrea Giordano has given us more than an album; she’s created a house of echoes, each track a “stansia”, a room where voices and memories flow in currents, weaving grief, homage, and delicate defiance. Dedicated to her late mentor, the jazz pedagogue Alessandra Giachero, "Àlea" invites us to navigate through spaces both intimate and expansive, where sound becomes an emotional and spatial architecture.

Born from Giordano’s studies at the Norwegian Academy of Music, "Àlea" marks her search for the heart of both personal and musical memory. This album is a rare fusion of the Italian and Norwegian jazz scenes, an exploration of Giordano’s Italian heritage through the lesser-known Piedmontese dialect spoken in her native Cuneo. Translating her grief into music, Giordano tapped poet Vieri Cervelli Montel to craft texts that she would translate into this dialect, a linguistic tribute to her grandmother and her roots. This act of linguistic preservation finds an emotional parallel in the composition itself: "Àlea" feels as though it’s reaching out for a connection with the past, allowing it to breathe anew within each lingering note.

Each “room” of this suite feels distinct yet intricately connected, beginning with an ominous, percussion-backed chorale that gradually unfolds into a melancholic harp-voice duet, setting the stage for Giordano’s vulnerable yet unyielding artistry. Her voice, at times soaring, at times cradling the silences, is woven into the mix of harp, flutes, accordion, and granular synthesizers. Her ensemble, handpicked for their warm timbres and versatility, melds seamlessly, becoming a single, breathing organism.

Giordano’s creative ambition meets technical expertise in a meticulous orchestration that somehow still allows the music to wander and drift, capturing the essence of alea - chance. Each piece feels as if it’s unfolding naturally, allowing for moments of unexpected beauty and unresolved tension. The album itself, in both name and spirit, honors the unpredictable nature of life and loss, the elusive dance between fate and freedom. The sound is paradoxically dense yet ephemeral, evocative of rituals passed down, now slipping through Giordano’s fingers like fine sand.

The spaces Giordano builds within "Àlea" echo her influences, from jazz to contemporary classical to folk, evoking the quiet intensity of a funeral mass, only to twist away into a whispered lullaby or an organ-laden crescendo. Her use of accordion and organetto adds an earthy, almost folky texture to the compositions, grounding them in something ancient, something deeply rooted. This reverence for heritage, combined with her daring to reinvent it, makes "Àlea" a powerful statement of identity and loss, a reminder of what we keep alive through memory and music.

Through her voice and ensemble, Giordano transforms mourning into a form of melodic resilience. In these “rooms”, listeners may find themselves brushing against their own memories of loss or love, inhabiting this lyrical, haunted house that Giordano has so lovingly built. "Àlea" is at once a memorial and a revelation - a musical testament to the fact that in grief, we may yet find beauty, and through memory, we may craft something enduring.