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How close can one get to the divine? Saint Hildegard of Bingen, a German mystic and visionary of the Middle Ages, described herself as having seen visions from a young age — visions she received directly from a holy source. Her spirituality guided her to the taking of monastic vows, as she gave herself over to her God, and swore herself to a life of ascetic devotion. It is a redesigning of this same mysticism that permeates Rosalía’s “LUX,” an epic quest of human desire, divinity, control, and mortality, where the veil between the human and the divine is noticeably thinner.
“LUX” references Saint Hildegard directly within the album, as well as at least five other female mystics, saints, prophets, and nuns. Using these figures, Rosalía had a clear vision for a project that centered itself around the ideas of feminine mysticism, of the connection between woman and the divine, and of spiritual transformation through the abandonment of worldly pleasures and possessions. The ideas coursing through the veins of this album are gigantic, and the Spanish artist simply refuses to shy away.
“LUX” arrives as Rosalía’s fourth studio album, and as successor to the critical acclaim and popularity of 2022’s “Motomami.” The latter was an explosion of sound and traversed the genres of reggaeton, electronic, bachata, and flamenco — all tossed together to create an experimental feast. The album, while taking itself seriously, also knew when to throw caution to the wind and have fun. While “LUX” may seem like a complete tonal shift towards the intense and reverent, it provides just as much to bite into as “Motomami” did, if not more.
The album is as sonically grand as the topics it expresses, full of sweeping orchestral arrangements, elements of opera, and of course, Rosalía’s voice that soars right towards the heavens. Opening with “Sexo, Violencia, y Llantas,” she softly hums the very thesis of the album’s grand idea of the relationship between the earthly world, its desires, and a connection to God: “Quién pudiera vivir entre los dos / Primero amar el mundo y luego amar a Dios” — “Who could live between the two / First love the world, then love God.” These lyrics open up the world of “LUX,” and layered over drawn-out strings, the somberness of the track and her questioning become clear.
Transitioning into the frantic strings on “Reliquia,” Rosalía lays out a journey traveling the world, mapping her imperfections, sins, and loss of faith at times. The verses build and build into a catharsis that provides as much relief for the listener as it does for her.
“Porcelana” slinks beneath the skin, with its heavy sonic background dragging it into a slow pulsing rhythm. The beating drums create a hypnotic allure as she tempts through the power of desire, stating “Yo Te puedo envenenar / y te puedo curar / Yo te puedo elevar / o te puedo humillar” — “I can poison you, and I can heal you / I can lift you up, or I can humiliate you.” Transitioning from power to vulnerability, “Mio Cristo Piange Diamanti” resembles a hymn, evoking a melancholy stemming from the love of God. The track is a career highlight, a sparkling jewel in Rosalía’s crown of fresh concepts and the exciting new skills she has mastered.
The album takes a turn towards the intense in “Berghain,” an orchestral, operatic journey that never truly lets up. Opening with the German chanting that, when translated, details: “His fear is my fear / His rage is my rage / His blood is my blood.” The song carries the intensity of a spiritual vision, declaring itself one with a higher being. Bringing in giant of the avant-garde Björk, as well as Yves Tumor, the song was the first single released in anticipation of the album and understandably so, as it packs a punch, catching listeners off guard with its chaotic strings.
Rosalía explores Arabic in “La Yugular” where she declares ultimate love for her holy being, particularly for their enormity and significance. In “Sauvignon Blanc,” a piano ballad, she speaks of leaving her Jimmy Choos behind in a cheeky redefining of the mystic philosophy for the modern world, renouncing her possessions in hopes of giving herself completely. A flamenco-infused song, “La Rumba Del Perdón,” speaks of ultimate forgiveness over a thumping beat and accompanying claps.
Closing out the journey, “Memória” and “Magnolias” confront what it means to be mortal, to die, and to be remembered and memorialized. They are solemn hymnals, carrying out the innate sadness and reverence of their themes, as well as the album’s tone of humility. In “Magnolias,” a heavenly choir sings out: “Dios desciende y yo asciendo / Nos encontramos en el medio” — “God descends and I ascend / We meet in the middle,” a confession of a reunion with God, the culmination of this quest between the earthly and the holy, and how they discover each other.
“Lux” seeks to establish this connection for modern times, stating that while some may not consider a breakup to be a spiritually transformative experience, Rosalía does. She eagerly redefines what is sacred, rewriting it for a world riddled with material desire. Some could see her tackling of religious visions and unity with God as too grandiose and pompous for a mainstream album, but by engaging with the enormity of the human experience with God, she declares that the ordinary can be a transformative religious experience.
Rosalía expresses that there does not have to be fire raining down from the heavens to witness God, because the connection to spirituality exists already, directly through the very human and ordinary pain that is experienced every day. She humanizes these celestial experiences and explains that they are never that far away. By doing this, it becomes clear that these topics are not too grand for such an album. Rosalía rises to the occasion as it descends down to her.
The album is ambitious, but never insincere. Instead, it is grounded in its confessional honesty. Rosalía humbles herself before the holy — even before the listener — with the understanding that while she is going to reach towards the heavens with her huge ideas, she still declares herself human. The album’s grandiosity always pays off, and is always creating something incredibly exciting and visionary. There is nothing that sounds quite like what Rosalía is doing with “LUX,” and that is because she is daring to go where few have gone. The result of her ambition is a monumental testament to what can be done in just an album; it is unapologetically maximalist.
Some could say that she was taking a risk by creating an operatic, orchestral, and mystic album, but through “LUX,” Rosalía suggests that maybe listeners have always been ready for such musical divine intervention.
—Staff writer Ariana N. Barillas Santizo can be reached at ariana.barillassantizo@thecrimson.com.
