Quite a ‘huge’ name within the Finnish Black Metal scene is Perttu Pakkanen, also acting under monikers like P. E. Packain or Vainaya, and others. The list of excellent and magnificent projects he is, or was, involved with, includes no less than acts like Sargeist, Horna, Vitsaus, Cornigr or Theriomorph, as well as one of my most beloved combos from the last decade, mighty Adaestuo.
Under the moniker P. E. Packain, Perttu recently started a new outfit that has nothing to do with (Black) Metal when it comes to the ‘Music’ itself. The atmosphere, nonetheless… In December last year, he released two EP’s via his own Ex Borea Nox Recordings channel, Vessels Of Psychopomps (‘funerary anthems dreamed up in honor of all chthonic deities’) and Diabolodies (‘aural deviltry, a sinister vibration echoing from vast Abyss’). It rather refers to ritual Ambient-oriented majesty, from sonic point, drenched in ceremonial mysticism and haunting obscurity.
And now this multi-disciplined musician returns with a third EP under the P. E. Packain banner, in an unholy conspiracy with Lady Hekte Zaren. You might surely know this Polish artist from her involvement with so many projects, like her self-called solo-outfit, or projects like Corona Barathri, AmortE, Norrs, Sacris Ritus Vermes, Hoarfrost, and above all: Adaestuo. Indeed, both Hekte Zaren (also known as Harpya Xul) and Sir P. E. have been performing together before, with nothing but superior Aural Art in consequence.
The link to Adaestuo sort of continues, for Adaestuo’s third member, VJS, took care of this recording’s mix and mastering (for his Dirge Forge company). Just for fun: also currently or formerly involved with e.g. Vaeok, Nightbringer, Sargeist, Demoncy or Kult Of Azazel.
This said… This specific collaboration was sort of improvised, ‘a spontaneous outflow of venomous tears of the muses’. The four elegies were recorded live at Ex Borea Nox Portable during a two-days session in Summer 2024, when Hekte Zaren was visiting the marvelous landscapes in the Land of a Thousand Lakes. The result is a four-track adventure, clocking about twenty-eight minutes (from 06:36 to 07:26 minutes in length). Besides a digital one, it can be ‘ordered’ on cassette too, manufactured on demand and hand-numbered, and coming with fine cover artwork, based on the fine work ‘Medusa’ by Italian sculptor Vincenzo Gemito.
Night Wind Saturnine is build around vocals and prepared guitar as core; no percussions / drums this time. When it comes to the voices, well, do not except (blackened) screams or hysterical grunts whatsoever this time. Hekte Zaren uses her ‘clean’ voice, with melodious, whispering, conjuring, invoking, frenzy and spellbinding timbres, all filled with emotion and passion. The string-work has a certain droning effect, creating hypnosis and chimera, with the use of looper to extend the anesthetic sound. More than once, the sound-scale rather reminds me of an amalgam or interplay of cello, viola, or even synths. Moreover, that sound gets carried by a very decent production and mix, maintaining a certain (and necessary) roughness, yet subtly polished to avoid unnecessary background noise effects whatsoever.
The EP opens with Nocturne In B Minor, Op. 3, No. 6, which sets the tone for the whole take. It starts very ominous, with haunting soundwaves that grow, fade away, and resurrect over and over again. Soon the voices join, whispered, holding the middle in between anxiety and tristesse somehow. After two minutes and something, Hekte Zaren’s voice evolves into a warm, harmonious one, with a classical tone and an expression of intense feelings (and some mawkish sobbing and semi-operatic ‘howling’). Still the instrumental side iterates with its bleak yet delicate intensity, resulting in a starry-eyed opus.
Nocturne In C Minor, Op. 3, No. 2 comes with an expression of enigmatic mysticism and ceremonial dimness. The main theme is an almost claustrophobic yet simply beautiful harmony, and despite its ‘simplicity’, it’s efficient and bewitching. Added by some acoustic strings and those mesmerizing, even fragile chants, the outcome might refer to, well, I am not afraid to mention Aghast or the most doomed and nebulous creations by earlier Dead Can Dance.
Nocturne In E Minor, Op. 3, No. 5 does remind me of Krew Za Krew’s title track for a not that strange reason, when it comes to the gloomy yet baleful string melodies. In combination with the sweetly-adjuring chants, the illation is one of in-depth self-reflection and humble respect. Here too, a seemingly monotonous framework offers multifold hidden additions, which reveal themselves only at the right moment, directly to the attentive listener.
The final episode, Nocturne In C Minor, Op. 3, No. 4, exhales a indivertible tristesse, for both the semi-heavenly vocals and the unfortunate melodies get canalized into an dirge of mortal fairness. The bleakness that surrounds this last piece summons (venomous) tears, both warm and cold: vehement in execution, marmoreal in atmosphere. A sibling-song to Gorgona (from the Manalan Virrat-album), but more sentimental…
In short: Night Wind Saturnine is like a translation of Adaestuo, transformed into spheres of Ambient rather than Metal, refashioned from explicit blackened artistry into idiosyncratic subtlety, altered from vile lunacy into susceptible sensitivity. A soundtrack for isolationism, dream, and passion…
https://p-e-packain.bandcamp.com/album/night-wind-saturnine
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GysnJoAr0x0