FRESIA MAGDALENA: ALBUM REVIEW
There is no better way to start a morning than listening to Sofia Kourtesis’ Fresia Magdalena while on a 10 a.m. caffeine high. The Berlin-based, Peruvian artist’s newest EP feels like a bath in the warm sun, and a long day spent by the sea. The first time I listened to Fresia Magdalena, it happened to be the only day that week where rain was not incessantly drizzling along my windowpane. I am nothing but convinced that the album’s healing powers opened up the sky once again.
The album cover is simply spectacular: a collage that surrounds a mural of Sarita Colonia, otherwise known as the ‘Patron of the Poor.’ Kourtesis named her last EP after Colonia and refers to her as “an icon within Peru, and the voice of the underrepresented.” Bringing light to what would otherwise live in the darkness seems to be foundational to her work, Fresia Magdalena, as well.
Its opening track, La Perla, exudes a heavenly warmth, capturing the feeling of waking up from a long nap to shimmering rays of sun beating on your face. The track’s deep house-feel is curated through overlapping percussions and subtly pulsing melodies. As the song progresses, new layers are added, and these elements begin to all fold in together. Eventually, Kourtesis samples her own voice for what she says is for the first time, and it is nothing but meditative. Listening to La Perla doesn’t entirely exude a craving to be at a dance floor, but rather a feeling of cruising down a highway in solitude or with friends as you think, ‘if this is all that life is, then it’s pretty fucking good.’
The track that follows begins with a spoken-word statement: “I only have eyes for you.” And with the calm synths that follow, you believe it. Dreamlike bells are rung over the steady beat, driving the song to higher and higher altitudes. Although the track always comes back to its spoken-word and singing elements, it doesn’t feel repetitive — only full circle. And in many ways, it is a full circle moment. The third track, “Nicolas,” is named for her father, who recently passed away from leukemia. However, the track feels anything but dark. It’s an obvious and healing celebration of a spirit that will never fade, even though its shell is impermanent.
On the contrary, “Juntos,” is much faster paced. Its pulse is quicker and is overlaid with a delicate piano melody. The track as a whole feels more minimalist compared to its predecessors, almost as if Kourtesis is holding us back, building tension for what’s to come. Little do we know that the album’s finale, “Dakotas” brings us into an open space. We are no longer drifting at sea, but rather entranced by smooth synths in a wild jungle. Although the album’s mood shifts, its core elements remain the same as we are taken on a reflexive and grounding journey across space and time.
In a week that only seemed to spiral deeper into muddy darkness, Kourtesis’ Fresia Magdalena was a breath of fresh air — one that I inhaled with a desperation. The album, rather than leaving me with feelings of false positivity, exuded an aurora of intense calm and an unwavering quietness that can only be manifested from within.