There is no question. The Land… doesn’t just reflect its emotional and ideological import, it is these things. It lives and breathes them—almost literally, with vocalist Katsiaryna Mankevich at points wrenching her words out in panting, anguished gasps. Despite the fact that it’s entirely in Belarusian—and so I can’t understand a single word—the ardor and woe are so tangible that I feel the meaning deeply. Owing not only to the stunning vocal performance by Mankevich, who covers ground from pained Amenra-esque shrieks to spoken word, and the chorus of wailing, chanting voices, including children, who join her to tell their part of the story. But also to the rich, widely-influenced instrumentation that rings with grief through cello and piano, with rage in blackened outbursts, and forlornness in saxophone and accordion. Blunt and harrowing samples, and the stripped-back stillness that breaks apart the noise with whispers and echoing notes all intensify already intense and evocative music that is heavy on atmosphere without ever being oppressive. Emotion is everything for this album, and the music drips with it.
By opening with “Come and See,” Dymna Lotva not only nod to Elem Klimov’s harrowing film of the same name, which unflinchingly depicts the horrors of Nazi-occupied Belarus, they also draw back the curtain and invite the listener to see, hear, and feel the miseries they will describe. An air raid siren (“Come and See”); a child inconsolably crying, crackling fire and screaming (“Hell”); choking breaths (“The Pit”); demented laughter (“Cruelty”) paint a vivid picture. Mournful refrains reach an almost painful beauty as they are iterated from plucks to tremolos (“Buried Alive,” “Cruelty”), from piano to strings (“Night Witches,” “Unquenchable”), from singer to singer (“Dead Don’t Hurt,” “To Freedom”) and back. The group have an uncanny ability to weave traditional, and classical instrumentation, and black metal in ways that feel not just perfectly natural, but unique. At times they seem to channel White Ward with spacious, jazzy, mournful post-black, at others (weirdly) Make them Suffer or Wreche as cascades of piano spill across the soundscape (“Cruelty,” “Til the End”). But they never ape. Dymna Lotva are always entirely themselves.
When first faced with a thirteen-track album, and a runtime over an hour, I was concerned. To be sure, seventy-two minutes of music is a lot to digest, even when it’s not this emotionally charged, so mileage may vary, yet it’s difficult to pinpoint what exactly isn’t essential. It is, nonetheless, probably too long. There are no weak songs per se, only points where the music lessens its grip just a little with almost mellowness, before delivering another gut punch. Perhaps “Ashes”‘ softness, perhaps “Night Witches”‘ repetition, perhaps “Blood”‘s or “Til the End”‘s scattershot fury. But each and every song drags the listener in, and holds them transfixed. A scream that rips through a weeping melody, or muted fuzz (“Death Kisses Your Eyes,” “The Pit”). A sudden, paralyzingly beautiful melody (“Cruelty,” “Unquenchable”). A many-voiced call of lament and defiance (“Buried Alive,” “To Freedom”). Delicate but heavy silence (“Death Kisses Your Eyes,” “Ashes,” “Dead Don’t Hurt”). Everything about this album is devastating in the way only art that comes from real pain can be.
The Land… has made a profound impression on me, to the extent that I regret not having known of Dymna Lotva prior to now. Musically, it is intricate, dense, and compelling. Ideologically, it is undeniable, with a heart that beats with every note, drumbeat, and literal breath. Listen and understand for yourself.
Rating: Very Good!
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Prophecy Productions
Websites: dymnalotva.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/dymnalotva
Releases Worldwide: August 4th, 2023
