Mikis Theodorakis - Electra (1962)

I'm not sufficiently familiar with Theodorakis' music to hold any solid opinion on it, but like a lot (not all) of music heavily entangled with its times (in his case, ranging from politicized oratorios to Hollywood soundtracks), most of what I have heard (regardless of my own political views) tends to be a bit too emphatic for my taste (again, not all; Το Άξιον Εστί, for instance, is interestingly weirder than what I would have expected), particularly when it assumed the form of some sort of symphonic folk, which constitutes something of a musical oxymoron if you ask me (I know you didn't, so I'll leave it at that). This, however, is on the other side of the spectrum; a side to which I didn't even know Theodorakis travelled (so he may have had other surprises up his sleeve). Being a soundtrack to Michael Cacoyannis' film adaptation of the classic tragedy Ηλέκτρα [Electra], it assumes a very sparse and slightly verisimilar approach to the diegetic context of the play (in contrast even with other work of the same genre he did; for instance, for Ιφιγένεια [Ifigenia], also by Cacoyannis, in which he followed a more orchestral route). More than full compositions, this harbors essentially a collection of cryptic sonic gestures and ominous dramatic cues, mostly made with an assortment of traditional instruments, winds and percussions, to conjure an antique soundworld assimilable to greek tragedy, and in that may reside both its virtues and limitations. Taken by itself, this hieratic approach might not make for an entirely self-sufficient listen (while I seem to remember it being quite effective in the film); but that can make its soundtracking qualities more easily transferable to other artistic objects (unlike melodic content, which has much more associative power, getting attached to specific experiences and contexts), whose immersive enjoyment it can also complement and enhance. As such, when you feel like dusting off your Euripides, don a chiton, and sip some retsina (oh, is that not how everyone reads the classics?), why not put this on, let its archaic atmosphere set in the background, and maybe take the opportunity to acclimate yourself anew to the chthonic chaos the world is hellbent on devolving into? It might work like a charm.