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It's hard to believe that Dracula, the masterpiece novel written by Bram Stoker, has been with us barely over a century, for it seems like it has been a part of our cultural consciousness, well, forever. At the most basic and appealing level, it is a simple tale of good versus evil, lined with the Victorian themes prominent in its day: gender, sexuality, and class. What sets it apart from other gothic novels, however, is Stoker's integration of Romanian-Hungarian culture and history (made more remarkable in that he never visited the region); his use of then-modern, scientific devices to further the story; and the connected interplay and human depth of his novel's protagonists. From this source comes the latest album of Karda Estra, the project of composer Richard Wileman. This time around, Wileman has expanded the number of string and woodwind players. Together with his multi-instrumental capabilities, though there are only seven musicians in all, you feel as if you were listening to a fully orchestral work. Voivode Dracula is a five-part suite, drawing from various characters, settings, and scenarios in the novel, with each piece accompanied in the CD booklet with quotes from the novel to set the tone. The first track is dedicated to the 'Voivode' (a Slavic designation that equates to "prince" or "ruler") Count himself. Those familiar with the opening of Karda Estra's previous concept album, Constellations, will note the contrast in mood almost immediately. The opening, subterranean strains of cello and organ are as portentous and unsettling as "Southern Cross" (Constellations' first track) was soothing and gentle. "Lucy" refers to Lucy Westenra, Dracula's first victim once he lands in the U.K. in search of new blood. Ileesha Bailey's choral vocals, shifting between minor and major tones at once demonic yet lovely, convey the vampiric Lucy, luring her husband Arthur Holmwood irresistibly in for just one, little bite. The rest of the tracks are also painted with broad strokes of darkness, from the desolate "Land Beyond the Forest" (i.e., Transylvania) to "Kisses for Us All," representing Jonathan Harker's agitated confrontation with the eroticism of Dracula's three brides. Even "Mina," wife of Jonathan and best friend of Lucy, is filtered here through shadowed lenses. One of the great strengths of Voivode Dracula is that it dutifully avoids clichés that one might be on guard against, given the source of inspiration. This is not a comic book rendition such as a lower-tiered neoprog or prog-metal band might hash out, regurgitating with hamfisted narrative as much of the plot as can be crammed onto a 75-minute disc. Nor do we have to drag out the eye shadow and try to recall where we put our favorite Bauhaus albums or Anne Rice novels in order to enjoy the offerings here. There are instead refreshing musical touches. The soft touches of bouzouki, like Stoker's research, sprinkle an appropriately Eastern European flavor. The use of the pipe organ brings about the feel of something ancient, ceremonial, and noble. Under "Voivode Dracula" in the CD booklet is quoted Lucy's death, whereas the "Festina Lente" (meaning 'hasten slowly') appendage to "Lucy" originally referred to Dracula and also sounds somewhat like a music instruction written on a score. The quotes provided under "Mina" appropriately match the music of the track, conveying not so much her strength and light as the novel's main heroine but instead her vulnerability to Dracula, providing a counterpoint to her husband's vulnerability in "Kisses for Us All." So, you have an approach where the music, characters, and quotes commingle fluidly, forming an impressionistic scalpel that attempts to expose some of the novel's inner psychology and emotional reality in lieu of pursuing a literal approach that almost certainly would have been more stifling and futile. In summary, Voivode Dracula does not disappoint, and with it Wileman and colleagues are continuing to build an impressive body of work that will be remembered and enjoyed in the years to come. While it retains the choral vocals and chamber-orchestral nuances that mark all the Karda Estra albums I've heard, Wileman has successfully pursued a new direction in his utilization of that sound for this album; relative to its immediate predecessor, Constellations, I can happily report it's largely apples and oranges. The music on here is less immediately accessible and more unrelentingly dark in mood than that of Constellations. While these qualities mean it will probably take more listens to sink in, there is also an increased compositional complexity and the potentially greater payoff for those with the attention to lend. For those fans looking for contemporary symphonic-progressive music of quality, you won't be disappointed here. review by Joe McGlinchey — 6-9-04 —