Warthur Fermata developed their musical sound in a more rock-oriented direction this time around, taking on influences from symphonic prog mainstays such as Emerson, Lake and Palmer in order to craft this concept album about the devastating Huascaran earthquake of 1970. As far as blendings of symphonic prog rock and jazz fusion go, I don't think it's as interesting as the territory fellow Iron Curtain group SBB were exploring at around these times; the fusion sections lack the fury and passion of Fermata's previous albums, and the symphonic rock sections sound lifeless and unenthusiastic to my ears. Not my cup of tea by a long way.

Warthur As with the previous album, Fermata's Piesen Z Hol presents a strongly Mahavishnu Orchestra-influenced brand of fusion based around the furious guitar work of Frantisek Griglák. With both Griglák and Tomás Berka contributing keyboard work to the mix, the album shows a somewhat greater synthesiser presence than the debut - or, for that matter, the original Mahavishnu Orchestra's albums, making Piesen's sound rather more unique. If you want to imagine what the Orchestra might have sounded like if the original lineup had stayed together and Jan Hammer had gotten some top-flight synthesisers, you should definitely consider giving this album a try.

Warthur A confident fusion debut from Fermata, with Tomás Berka's keyboards and Frantisek Griglák's guitar playing providing a particularly interesting sound. Raw and aggressive, the music clearly shows a mild Mahavishnu Orchestra influence, Griglak in particular showing just as much capacity as John McLaughlin for fast-paced playing - as shown off on the opening track Rumunská Rapsódia. A good fusion debut which feels at points rather anonymous - the band would develop a more distinctive sound over the course of subsequent albums, of course. Fans of the Mahavishnu Orchestra and anyone interested in jazz from beyond the Iron Curtain will be particularly happy with this one.

Sean Trane After a break of two years, when Fermáta 's members played with Collegium Musicum and following that period, CM's bassist Fedor Freso would follow them here, the line-up would remain stable for three albums. Fermáta's fourth album is another thematic album and sets out to tell us about the legends surrounding the Danube River to which is related the abstract but suggestive artwork gracing the cover. One of the characteristics of this album is the Oddly building on a re-work of Perpetuum III from their debut album, and its really smokes, even if there are added keyboards using sounds from the later 70's (never a good thing for this writer), but apart for this sonic remark, overall the general musical direction is generally more pop, keyboard-oriented than their previous full-out JR/F. The short acoustic guitar intro of Chotemir leads us in a quiet slow evolving piano-dominated crescendo until Griglak's superb Gilmour-esque solo and much more happening. One of the album's highlights. Witemir is a jazzy guitar track laced with some nice scat chants and Fender Rhodes. The same instrument starts the Unzat track, but in a more intriguing manner, but the track evolves symphonic.

The second-half tracks (most likely most of the vinyl's side B) of the album are sounding to clinically clean, without much inspiration or soul, this being most evident with Trebiz, completely over-dominated by Berka's keyboards, obviously getting a hand from Griglak's paws on other keys. Zilic is a cross of mid-70's Camel with Saga's pop with some mild funky jazz-rock, sounding like some Happy The Man; Zuemin not changing much and ending in slow wind noises. Ditto for the album closer in terms of little interest.

The bonus tracks are also rather ill-advised addition, with both Program Zacina and Tvar being a full-out "song" format with vocals, not only clashing with the first progressive jazz-rock part of the album, but even with the second synth-indulgent pop-jazz part. Not exactly their best work, this album is almost making first hour fans regrettingb that they ever came back from their break. Best avoided if you ask me, even if there are some good tracks early on.

Sean Trane This third album is a concept album, based on the Peruvian 1970 earthquake that killed some 80,000 lives and had its epicenter near Huascaran. How futile the coincidence that I review this album three weeks after the next biggest earthquake took place in Chincha. It is indeed with much emotions that I have listened to this album in the last month, thinking of our fine collaborators Ivàn, Cesar, Chus and whomever else I might forget, let alone all of the victims that suffered from this most recent event. So in their honor and with much humility, I'd like to dedicate this review to our Peruvian friends who are probably facing a few hardships, but are alive and well (as are their families), which before the Ming vase (Eeeehmmmm!!!. ;o))) and their Cd collection is the most important! The group undergoes a big line-up change as original bassist Jaro is replaced Lucenic, while the drum stool revolves for the last time in a while with Karol Olah sitting on a big wad of glue (Eeeehmmm!!!.. ;o))) to retain it. Griglak also plunges into keyboards on this album, but it doesn't tip the scale against his guitar, since it is one of his strongest works. Karol's brother Peter will belt out a few vocal lines and they added a cello guest musician (the violinist of their previous album was virtually unnoticeable). With their poorest artwork of their discography (but giving a good idea of their western equipment), Huascaran would've deserved a more evocative artwork because of the thematic subject, at the risk of being a bit graphic.

While the lead-off first part of the title track is rather slow evolver, the track picks up intensity by the tenth minute and a few dozens of second later, a short drum solo roll describe the earthquake and the 40-minutes landslide/avalanche that resulted in the high victim toll. The next track is a solemn homage to the 80,000 victims, and this track cannot leave me without chills down my back and send goose-bumps over the rest of my body. This music is simply awesome and somehow a fantastic gift from people suffering a different kind of hardship, caught behind an iron curtain. Griglak's guitar lines in this track are soaring above Pachacamac and the Inca roots of the country.

The flipside is a good musical evocation of the international help teams and solidarity amongst men in adversity, the shorter track of the album, but hardly lesser because of it. The second part of the title track brings us back to the dramatic end of the opening movement, but it seems that the idea was to improvise a bit on the ideas developed previously. The tracks is a slow decrease of intensity and ends on birdsongs and slow bass drum hearbeat.

The Cd reissue comes with three absolutely fantastic bonus tracks, which adds even more value per money. 15 is a hard driving funk/fusion track that resembles a bit the then-recent Weather Report releases with Latin rhythms. Valparaiso (named after the Chilean seaport) is more of a Mahavishnu Orchestra and is shines like a thousand sun and is hotter than lava flowing from its crater. The short Pertpetuum I would obviously be a leftover from their debut album, but strangely enough features some heavy brass arrangements, which hints it wouldn't be the case after all.

A splendid album and Fermáta's best album (even with the bonuses) and some of the most stunning symphonic/progressive jazz- rock ever. This could easily rate with the best of UK or US jazz-rock fusion and it's a shame that Fermáta was one more victim of the Cold War, because it deserved much more. Run for this one!!