A collection (the Ensemble?s second, following their ?Lassithi/Elysium? disc from 1998) of recent, early and live material capturing the breath of a Greek God (Aeolus, fabled keeper of the winds), and translating it into wondrous meteorological drones for both mortal ear and heart. At the core of this ethereal banquet is the Aeolian Harp itself (an instrument dating back to antiquity and whose modern equivalent emerged sometime during the 17th Century) a large stringed wooden resonant box which can be affixed to either tree or building, or fitted along a length of window ledge. Once installed, it is abandoned to the whim of incoming drafts which dance upon its strings, creating vibrations that, in turn, produce sonorously rich harmonics. It?s as if the air itself has assembled for an angelic pagan choir, singing hymns in praise of old mother earth. Of the three tracks (each a masterpiece, each vaguely reminiscent of Nurse With Wound?s ?Funeral Music for Perez Prado? or ?Soliloquy for Lilith,? yet not quite sounding like anything else) the title piece is particularly awe-inspiring. Recorded live in Bosham Harbour, West Sussex, England on the day of the 1999 Solar Eclipse, it was performed covertly, without the knowledge of the gathered onlookers. The harp?s voice could be clearly heard, a soundtrack to co-star alongside the main attraction ? the machinations of the moon. Effortlessly spacious, soothingly lazy, drifting patterns which envelop the listener in a glistening cloud ? you can almost feel the breeze as its lips press upon your face. Heaven. 8/10 -- Spencer Grady (16 June, 2005)