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In a genre as rigidly codified as progressive rock has become, it's uncommon to come across bands that are not reminiscent of something I've already heard before. Such is the case with Karda Estra, the musical project of Brit Richard Wileman. Constellations is a series of seven instrumental compositions, of which the last is an obscure Steve Hackett cover. Wileman's compositions do not favor pomp and circumstance, more often displaying a nimble and slinky chamber-ish quality. Each original composition is meant to represent a different constellation, and it is perhaps this thematic unity that produces the episodic quality of the pieces, six miniatures forming a soundtrack for the night sky. While most of the material is quite pretty for lack of a better word, Wileman is not afraid to introduce dissonance as a tension-raiser, although he keeps things in a tonal framework, which differentiates his arrangements from the mostly Belgian chamber-rock bands like Univers Zero and Aksak Maboul. Although Wileman limits himself mainly to guitars, guests on vocals, strings, and winds provide a rich variety of timbers. Most striking is the oboe of Caron Hansford, with its haunting quality. Great pains appear to have been taken with the arrangements, as there are subtleties and nuances not often found with today's prog, and the general economy in the sparse arrangements is a rejection of all the useless excesses of the lesser bands that keep getting the limelight. The prog world would do well to get to know Karda Estra better; prog musicians might want to take some notes too. review by Sean McFee — 5-12-03 —

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"They are immortal, all those stars both silvery and golden shall shine out again, The great stars and the little ones shall shine out again, they endure..." (Walt Whitman) They say that symphonic rock is dead. I agree with this proposition, if it means nth-generation Neoclones, clamoring to unfurl their latest 28-minute suite devoted to their favorite obscure fantasy or sci-fi character, all in the service of showing that yep…they too can play in 7/8, dammit. Thankfully, however, there exists Karda Estra, led by composer Richard Wileman. Though I would not characterize their sound as 'rock,' they are one act credibly carrying forth the spirit of symphonic rock, while at the same time not losing sight of the fact that it is no longer the 1970s. It was almost eerie to me how well Constellations matches up with my own predilections. It is fashioned in the manner of the two-sided LP, with seven tracks adding up to a digestible 43 minutes, the perfect CD length for me. There are traditional timbres, such as the familiar classical guitar and strings, but also other sounds I love that I feel are underutilized in popular music, particularly the oboe. These are integrated seamlessly with creative textures arising out of the modern studio: theremin-like, UFO guitar; backwards tape effects; reverbed piano with vocals or other sounds way off in the distance. The strength of this album, however, ultimately lies in the compositions, and Wileman is a true talent in this regard. All of the songs here are superbly crafted, and loaded with detail and character. "Hydra" crawls along on its belly, defined by slithery bass lines and clanging lower registers of the piano. "Phoenix" features an unexpected crescendo at the end, with scorching guitar and Ileesha Bailey's vocals ascending out of the pyre, capped off with harmonies that seem as if a mystical seal. My favorite tracks on the album are "The Southern Cross" and "Scorpio." Both just suck the air out of you with their graceful beauty. The former track is particularly noteworthy, a heavenly mixture of delicate acoustic guitar, faint pipe organ, and regal, pulsing electric guitar in the vein of Steve Hackett. This is that song for when you are sprawled out on the deck of a sailboat in the depths of the summer with no other boats in sight, gazing upwards, you versus the sky, and the sky is winning. There is a rich use of harmonies and light dissonance throughout the album. As one brief example, in "Phoenix," there's a brief section where the piano plays D-flat in the bass, and a series of gentle E-flat and D-flat arpeggios in the right hand. However, the upper-most note of each arpeggio is extended by a semitone, creating an off-kilter feel that subverts what the listener expects to hear in his/her head, while still remaining within the conventions of a traditional harmony vocabulary. Highly recommended, this is an album that I am fully confident for me will not diminish over time. The poem I quoted above later concluded, "Something there is more immortal even than the stars..." What was Whitman referring to? I am not sure, though I'd love to believe he was thinking about music and the emotions it can evoke. Constellations is that album to help you connect to that sense of the numinous to which he alludes. review by Joe McGlinchey — 4-7-03 —