Another song of Norway to relish. The trio take their name from the valley by Lake Maridal, and the band recorded this intimate release in the old wooden church there. No surprise that in such a rustic context the album starts with gently running water and birdsong, while the opening cut, ‘Koral’ has the austere edge of a church hymn. With no chordal instruments, or drums, the trio summon a sound as clear and fresh as a Norwegian dawn, with space, time and reflection all to the fore. Individuals do solo, Vemoy's trumpet for example hushed and gentle as a breeze through leaves, stands out on the title track, while Hefre's break on ‘Blir net Regn I dag tru?‘ is all the more striking because its bluesy soul is such a different intonation from Haga's understated figures. The Scandanavian influences are hardly surprising, but there's also an almost pointilliste feel to the music, each specifically chosen note being exquisitely placed to build a picture far greater than the components would appear to signify. Jimmy Giuffre would approve. In a world of noise and excess, Maridalen is rich with the sounds of silence.