ARTO and ANTTI JÄRVELÄ
Os Fera Liluli
OArt 8

Members of the Järvelä clan – arguably the first family of Finnish folk fiddling – cousins Arto (fiddle and cross-tuned fiddle) and Antti (acoustic guitar, archtop guitar, and fiddle) both have extensive résumés, but are probably best known as members of the renowned folk fiddle “orchestra” JPP.

Sticking largely to Ostrobothnian tradition (the music of the eastern shore of the Gulf of Bothnia), Os Fera Liluli is notable for its diversity. The cousins move quickly and gracefully through dance tunes (polskas, polkas, and waltzes), a wedding march, and even a lullaby – nine traditional tunes and four originals packed into little over half an hour.

The album leads off with the traditional “Vesi Kesä,” a polska with something of a hoedown feel. With guitar and fiddle frequently sharing the melody, it shows the tight interplay that serves as the album’s hallmark.

Though the traditional repertoire is impeccably performed, it’s Arto’s originals that stand out. “Myötämäen Marssi,” a wedding march, is slow, joyful, and reverent, opening with Antti’s guitar playing the melody and Arto’s fiddle the counter melody, building gradually until the two instruments switch roles.

On “Verna,” a lullaby written for Arto’s elder daughter, two fiddles are so tightly intertwined it’s easy to lose track of the different parts as the slow, soothing melody gently unfolds. The calm, though, is only temporary as the cousins shift gears into a fast and furious medley of two of original polskas, “Rantasauna” and “Kesäkuu”

Though the new compositions tend to steal the show, it’s the closing title track, a traditional work, that is the album’s high point. Described by the musicians as a “longdance,” its slow, almost dronelike melody and the cousins’ haunting vocals bring the album to a somber, powerful, close.

Both Antti and Arto are responsible for radical reinventions of Finnish roots music. Fans should not expect that here. Listening to Os Fera Liluli is like listening to two musicians playing around a fire on a long Finnish night. There’s no studio wizardry, just a relaxed interplay between the cousins and a sense that they’re playing not for the sake of recording but simply for the sake of the music.

It’s respectful step in a tradition – one that dates back centuries for the Järveläs. It’s done lovingly with all the beauty you’d expect from these two musicians.

— Bill Snyder