Last time out, Givre represented through their epic and atmospheric black metal the theme of pride, patriotism, hardship and faith within the French nationalist struggle in Canada. That was “Destin Messianique” (2022). Here on “Le CloÎtre”, the story concerns six female saints and their relation to god through suffering. Musically the depiction is via the medium of “suffocating and tormented” black metal.
The six track titles are based on the authors, mystics and poets who influenced them. So “Marthe Robin (1902 – 1981)” opens the proceedings. To a cold, grey rhythm the vocalist shouts despairingly. About five minutes in, the pace picks up, and now the sound is urgent, tense and distinctly black metal in nature. The sound of wrath hammering down prevails before quiet descends and a minimal guitar tune is played. The power builds up and the atmosphere is created of epic sorrow. The distant-sounding vocalist is not appeased. A terrible scream and violent instrumentation mark the start of “Louise du Néant (1639 – 1694)”. Dull and faintly distorted tones seem to indicate a world of chaos. The clouds thicken and the music gets heavier. This does not stand still. Turbulence and chaos return.
“Sainte Thérèse D’Avila 1515 – 1582” begins as a straight out blasting, contemptuous and roaring piece of black metal before turning into withering and helpless despair. “Marie des Vallées (1590 – 1656)” is another track with a persistent rhythm. The mood changes from something very sinister to a delightfully mellow version of the same rhythm. An echoing voice speaks in the background before the song expands in post-metal style. With the core structure, which is magnetic, and the interventions this was the standout track for me. The hymnal “Sainte Hildegarde de Bingen 1098 – 1178” starts with the rhythm of Manfred Mann’s Earth Band’s “Spirits in the Night” before moving into a kind of fuzz-sludge and then doomy darkness. It certainly has authority and pomp. “Sainte Marguerite de Cortone 1247 – 1297” starts with the voice of a female narrator before the tortured tones of the vocalist cut across the languid and funereal rhythm. The power and intensity build up, breaking off periodically. There’s no escaping the fact that the world being depicted here is one of pain but Givre manage to inject majesty without overdoing it.
I did briefly look into the authors and saints featured in the track titles but rather than try to contextualise them, not least because of the amount of in-depth research needed, I preferred to listen to the album and imbibe the atmospheres that Givre create with their black metal. What I did find here was six distinct tracks, each with plenty to say musically and all atmospheric in a very dark way. I struggled to see this album as a whole but the music and structures within it are impressive.
(7/10 Andrew Doherty)
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