Album Review: Gods Dievam Augstībā by Antonina Vaivode
If you’ve ever wondered what it feels like to step into an ancient cathedral at midnight, where echoes of devotion linger in the air, then Gods Dievam Augstībā is your ticket. This Canadian gem from Antonina Vaivode isn’t just classical music—it’s a journey through sacred whispers and celestial soundscapes that somehow feel both intimate and infinite. Released under "Not On Label," this album doesn’t need flashy branding; its soul speaks for itself.
Let’s talk about Antonina’s contralto vocals first because WOW. They’re rich, deep, and hauntingly beautiful, like hot cocoa on a cold winter night—comforting but also kind of otherworldly. And Donald Forbes’ organ? It’s not just accompaniment; it’s practically another character in the story. Together, they weave something that feels timeless yet personal, as if these songs have been waiting centuries just to find their way to your ears.
Now, onto my faves (because who has time for all 16 tracks?). First up: "Nāc, Dieva Dēls." From the opening notes, it grabs hold of you with this gentle urgency, like someone calling you home after years away. Antonina's voice here is raw and tender, almost like she's singing directly to you. The organ swells behind her, building layers of emotion until you're not sure whether to cry or smile—or maybe do both at once? Honestly, I couldn’t stop humming it days later.
Then there’s "Marijas Šūpuļa Dziesma", which hits different. Imagine Mary herself rocking baby Jesus to sleep, except instead of silence, there’s this lullaby so soft and pure it makes your heart ache. There’s no grand drama here—just simplicity done right. You can almost picture flickering candlelight and hear the creak of wooden floors. It’s one of those tracks that sneaks up on you, leaving you quiet and reflective long after it ends.
What’s wild about this album is how unapologetically spiritual it feels without being preachy. It invites you in, lets you sit awhile, and leaves space for your own thoughts. Whether you’re religious or just enjoy music that feels bigger than yourself, Gods Dievam Augstībā works its magic either way.
Here’s the kicker though—listening to this album made me realize how rare it is to slow down nowadays. We’re always rushing, scrolling, doing… but this record demands patience. It asks you to breathe, to really listen. And honestly? That might be exactly what we need more of. So grab a cup of tea, dim the lights, and let Antonina take you somewhere far beyond Canada—or even Earth.
Final thought: If heaven had a playlist, this would totally be on shuffle.
