How this begins album is not where it ends; musically, it’s a path that splits and diverts. Kollar embraces guitar-related instruments such as the roncoco, a mandolin-like instrument of the Andean regions, with the arms of a Slav. The aura of Eastern European multi-string, plucked instruments can be melancholic even when joyful, and it permeates ‘At Dusk’ and ‘Sunlight’, the latter a moment for Kollar to simply be himself with fellow guitarist, Fennesz.

Having been originally influenced by Gary Moore among others, today the effect of Norwegian Eivind Aarset on Kollar, is mapped out in the stars. He converts from the opening ‘Tendre Lundi’ with Erik Truffaz, a sweet and lilting dialogue: two elders reflecting on sad times, to fully blending with Arve Henriksen, almost becoming loss itself. Their co-composed ‘Sick Doll’s Dream’ is a single paint stroke of colours. Guitar and synth notes hang heavily, a mist of emotion falling like a beaded curtain, as Henriksen packs an affecting punch in the physicality of his trumpet and breath. Something was there and is now missing, it seems to say.

‘A.T.’ allows voices from excerpts of Tarkovsky’s films Stalker and The Mirror to skim his melodic guitar phrases, while in ‘Prisoner of Time’, Pat Mastelotto quotes Boris Pasternak’s poem, Night, in slurred, horror film-speed. There is a three-dimensional aspect to Kollar’s music, as if he is shaping the air around him before it wisps into smoke and dissipates beyond.