If it wasn't my job to actually write a review, I'd prefer to let Dalagija's descriptions of his solo piano pieces stand by themselves. After all, what can I add to his description of "Zavrazhye, Ivanovo":

"Moving into the area of religious, presentment of passengers in sledge before arriving in temple there is interweaving of wether-bell sound and church's bell-towers ringing in the distance."

Alright, maybe I can fill in a couple of blanks. The song creeps in on wolves' paws, echoing its forlorn refrain. Underneath this plinks a muted, barely audible note that rings with chilling loneliness. This passage fades into silence before a brief, driving melody intrudes, wrapping the listener in a swirling dance movement. The combined themes invoke the sense of awe that true hymns are supposed to. But does this really add to Dalagija's description? You be the judge.

These nine solo piano numbers highlight the Sarajevo native's ability to combine classical training and sensibility with folk energy. Folk melodies and time signatures have long been mooted as a way to invigorate classical music (see Smetana's Ma Vlast), but this doesn't make the results here any less exciting. In fact, in a time when the majority of music which one encounters reflects nothing more than a heavily commercialized American sensibility, these folk leanings quite possibly sound more foreign than they did when listeners were more connected to their own musical traditions. Even within his short pieces, Dalagija manages to capture a sense of tradition long missing in popular music. For example, "Khazar's Dance" is named for a Turkish tribe that was defeated by the Duke of Kiev; its members were the ancestors of many East European Jews (I love my encyclopedia). Sandwiched between infectious dance rhythms is a deeply solemn passage. This contrast reflects both the love of celebration and deep religious beliefs of a people many are not even aware exist. The fact that Dalagija manages to invoke quite specific feelings, despite my unfamiliarity with the subject matter, speaks volumes about the way in which this music touches us.

Other fine tracks abound; in particular, consider the spine-tingling "Juznjacka Utjeha". This track features a tickling line and a gentle melody which leaves plenty of room for Dalagija's piano to resonate. While the production may seem somewhat empty, the unadorned recordings serve to remind listeners of what a piano sounds like before it's run through compressors and a mixing deck. This traditional approach works well, in that it reinforces the music's folk leanings.

Put simply, Balkando is a very strong album, filled with moments that sound as pure as memory.