Critic's evaluation
She was captured by the stage as a child. Her passion for music led her to the 2016 edition of the reality TV show The Voice Brasil. Since then, the nationally renowned costume designer, actress and dancer has released two studio albums and two studio EPs. Today, Joana Castanheira presents Desapareço, her third album.
Joana Castanheira's timbre, which sounds like an omnipresent being in a still dark environment, makes the hairs on her entire body stand on end. High-pitched, with hints of velvet and tremulous pronunciation, it has the same vein as Elis Regina's, making it sound at times like it's coming from the mouth of the nostalgic artist herself. As time goes by, the slightly sweet and shrill sharpness takes on its own contours, as Riccieri Paludo's cello asks permission with its timid and punctual low notes. The curious thing about the instrument's use in the composition is that it doesn't transform the atmosphere into something dramatic, weepy or visceral. It delivers delicate textures and politely leaves the shine to the singer from Santa Catarina. With Joana's vocal cadence as the rhythmic delimitation, Cantar, with its minimalist structure, communicates to the listener what the act of singing means to Joana. It's truth, it's prayer, it's poetry. It's therapy, it's magic, it's protection. It is the essence of a sensitive individual who, simply and honestly, uses art to express herself.
Outside the bedroom window, the sky is gray and the horizon hazy. The rain falls like a veil, fine and at the same time treacherous in its melancholy delicacy. The cold isn't even the element that frightens, but rather the sorrows, disappointments and regrets that the absence of light brings into each other's lives. This is the landscape that Arthur Boscato's guitar offers from its somber and almost funereal introductory melody. The dramatic and mournful melt into the sonorous icy notes of Derli Júnior's piano, which unashamedly amplify the sadness and make it, curiously, a kind of painfully comforting torpor. As soon as the cello enters the scene, the crying is sonorized, and the character who once just leaned on the window now gives freedom to his pain, through tears that flow like a river without course through a contracted and static sinus. Rafael Nogueira's drums are an element of rationality that takes the protagonist out of mental abstraction and brings him back to the present, to a tactile state. Although delicate in its waltzing softness, the drums also dictate the rhythm and communicate the influence of MPB under slight flamenco touches. Caso Quebrado is a song that, between the full-bodied roars of João Peters' bass and the three-voice chorus in its subtly maddening tone, tells the story of a dancer delivered into the hands of death in such a way as to offer, through lyricism, that she consciously opted for suicide. That's when the omnipresent narrator marvels at not having noticed the signs that something wasn't right. After all, behind normality, the emotional can be in a real state of explosive and uncontrollable chaos.
The roar of the guitar in lap steel effect, for fractions of a second, brought folk to its most primal roots. However, what emerged was a softened, infectious bolero with bluesy undertones which, despite being easier on the palate, still has dramatic touches, albeit in cavalierly smaller quantities. Surprisingly, Joana comes out with a powerful Spanish song. Able to be sensual, Átame is a song that recounts a relationship in its state of imminent termination, but which, instead of causing suffering, brings benefits to the protagonist, who finally finds herself free of a stormy soul with a depressed essence. Freedom from suffering as a way of making others appreciate the beauty they once had in her company.
It's sweet, but still retains a dramatic vein. The way the piano and cello combine provides a melancholic-nostalgic setting, with the protagonist sitting by a lake with his thoughts and gaze distant, as if only his body were actually conscious. Surprisingly, as if suddenly captured, the listener gets goose bumps and their eyes water as they witness the sweetness and delicacy with which Paulo Novaes' timbre asks permission to share the plot of Ferida Aberta. As a song that presents the feelings coming from both sides of a relationship, it is the true opposite of Átame, after all, while in the former there is festive happiness at being single and free, in the latter there is resentment, longing and even love, making the distance even more painful for a heart whose wounds have not yet healed.
The piano comes and goes with its icy notes in a movement that can even be hypnotic. The cello manages to reproduce, with its melody, slight traces of grandeur and confidence, even though, deep down, there are still traces of pain. Re-acquiring a bohemian soul, Jardim is a song with squeaks from the drums that, unreasonably, even inserts touches of lo-fi into its plot that captures the way the character has struggled to learn to cope with loneliness.
Touching and melodramatic, the fusion of piano and cello makes your heart squeeze and your eyes water, but without the strength to cry. With a lyrical cadence that incorporates the vocal aesthetic of the sertanejo, Joana appears as a narrator aware of her own melancholic and nostalgic emotional situation. When the chorus arrives, another voice enters the scene in a bittersweet duet with the singer from Santa Catarina. It's Gabeu, who makes the atmosphere even more sentimental as she takes center stage in the second half of Impressão Digital and makes it easier for the listener to taste her bass-nasal timbre. This is how the song provides a storyline about a relationship that didn't work out, but which was the scene of persistent attempts to make it work. Impressão Digital is pure nostalgia for a time that can't be re-experienced.
The room is filled with darkness. You can't see a single piece of furniture in the room. Through the moonlight coming in through the gaps in the window, all that can be seen is the silhouette of the furniture, highlighting the remains of an individual curled up in the corner of the room. His thoughts are frantic, coming and going at a speed faster than light. Meanwhile, his eyes, completely closed, can't contain the barrage of tears that forms at the command of his heartbeat. This is the atmosphere that the low, icy notes of the piano, in a melody clearly influenced by Ludwig van Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata, offer the listener. In a minimalist but visceral structure, Por Tudo Exposto features Joana in an almost theatrical interpretation, with her heartbreaking delivery that exposes the latent guilt she feels for not having acted differently and, as a result, having pushed away the one she loved.
Sensual and delicate, the song dawns with a mature bolero which, filled with percussive drums from the atabaque and bongô played by Alexandre Damaria, embodies an intoxicating Latin air. Then, after a brief sweet waltz provided by Joana, the audience's ears are alerted to a low timbre that divides the lyrical setting. It's David Toledo giving an even more romantic flavor to Soneto De Amor Puro E Simples, a song that shows that, even after so many years apart, love and desire overcome time.
Maintaining the sensuality, but without the overtly sexual character, the title track is born as a danceable and slightly cheerful bolero that has, as in Soneto De Amor Puro E Simples, percussion as an element to brighten up the rhythm. The bass, on the other hand, is just as striking with its boomy body and conscious linear base. This is how the title track features a character seeking forgiveness in his eagerness to win back a love now imbued with resentment and contempt. A work that simply kneels at the feet of the one you love and asks for a second chance to be the home of a hardened heart.
Sweet, waltzing and fresh. The melody of the song is minimalist MPB, created only by the union of voice and guitar. Managing to be delicately attractive, Meu Amor has a firm but brief ability to slightly resemble the melody of Como Nossos Pais, a single by Elis Regina, while narrating a sudden awareness on the part of the protagonist. And it's this sudden awareness that makes him realize that he's not happy with the present, with the life he's leading alongside someone else. Even so, there is a romanticism in the separation, because wanting the good of the other person is a proof of altruism that surpasses the present and can last for several more lifetimes. Reunion is inevitable.
Like a soundtrack for the end credits that play in front of the screen, Boscato provides the listener with just the instrumental cut of Meu Amor. Accompanied only by his own whistle, the musician makes the sound striking and even bubblegummy, while the listener delights in the dizzying calm of a teleportation to a beach with a setting sky and a fresh breeze.
It's curious to note each person's perception of and relationship with love, life and the well-being of the heart. In this sense, Joana Castanheira not only dissects herself, but manages to have great depth in making Desapareço a dive into her own interpersonal and expansive relationships.
This was, in fact, Castanheira's strategy for dealing with her deep and almost inaccessible emotional environments. In each song, it's as if a barrier of her fears has been broken down and she's been able to let out what she's been holding back. From a subtle interlining of love dependency, Joana shows an unbridled sense of emancipation and individuality while still missing a kind of anchor that gives her protection and support.
It could even be an escape valve, a measure to make her appearance something that shows imposing, confident, persistent and determined. In truth, however, Desapareço ends up presenting her as a romantic soul who is unconsciously thirsty for true, honest, reciprocal companionship. An unconditional love for the afterlife.
In order to be able to express all these emotions and hide these fragilities that, in the eyes of others, don't impose judgment, but in her own, can be a source of discomfort, Joana enlisted Renato Pimentel to be responsible for the mixing. In his role, the professional turned the album into material that emphasized the melancholic and nostalgic, while highlighting its romantic character. From there, he prioritized the highlighting of rhythms such as MPB, bolero, lo-fi, flamenco and sertanejo so that they would be able to guide the listener through the album.
Rounding off the technical scope is the cover artwork. Signed by Janaína Morena and Tainá Bernard, it features Joana Castanheira in the guise of a flamenco dancer. With a penetrating gaze but a frightened soul, her brilliance doesn't hide her search for a safe haven for herself.
Released on 10/18/2023 in an independent way, Desapareço presents a woman with a yearning for freedom, independence and individuality. However, this same woman hides a loving soul that, in the eyes of others, may seem fragile, but is really just looking for someone to provide her with reciprocal and unconditional love.
