Casa

In the past six months, I’ve become more conscious of the dust settling on my bookshelves and windowpanes. Not that I didn’t notice it before, but with the additional time spent in my apartment, it is hard not to become more aware of your confines—all the small cracks in the cupboards and droplets of white paint on the wood floorboards eventually reveal themselves
Contained and simple, Casa, the third album from Catalan multi-instrumentalist Ubaldo (Andreu G. Serra), is constructed of broad, expressive ambient strokes, with understated inflections of guitar, voice, saxophone, and piano. The soundscapes on Casa seep into you like morning light through a sheer curtain and illuminates the room. Ubaldo does not build separate worlds on Casa, but instead, he highlights the one we know. Like water, Casa takes the shape of its container, filling whatever space you feel most stable in
Generally, my philosophy is that stagnation is dangerous. Until recently, I think I have been too naive, privileged to acknowledge how comforted and strong being settled can make one feel, and how important it is to appreciate stillness in the rare times it’s available to us. Casa has been my reminder