Pekka Kuusisto's lark does not take the usual, vertical ascent. It flutters, peruses, reflects; this flight, slower-paced and more solemn than most contemporary accounts, is highly personalised...the purity of Kuusisto's cadenzas give the warbird a freshly stark sweetness.

Honestly, what an album. And to be clear, I haven't fallen for this Lark because it's boldly, intelligently new-minted -although it is. I've fallen for it because it's mesmerisingly, shatteringly powerful and beautiful.

Kuusisto’s Lark isn’t RVW-lite, but a penetrating, convincingly honest account that strips the music back to its essential roots in the English folk tradition...Sam Amidon lends guitar, banjo and his distinctive vocals to six traditional American folk songs, here arranged by Nico Muhly. As expressions of faith, sorrow, ritual and resistance, they draw this inventive album to a heartfelt close.

Kuusisto’s darkly melancholic account [of The Lark Ascending], recorded in 2022 while his mother was nearing death, is certainly striking, not least for the amount of high-frequency hiss from his bow that everyone was prepared to accept when the lark scales the heights.

From the first phrase, the intrepid violinist’s version of [the Lark], which is at the center of this deeply affecting album, whispers in a grainy, hoarse tone that bristles with darkness... If a consistent theme for the album is evasive, there is no mistaking the deep sense of humanity underlying all of this music, and the performers’ efforts to connect through it.