Have you ever been to New Mexico during the summer? There’s a certain majesty to the scenery there that never fails to dazzle this city boy from Southern California. Something about the way shadows fall on the red rocks from the storm clouds that bring showers through the area every noon, almost like clockwork… I suppose it’s not just that way during the summer. But that’s my limited experience with the state known as the “Land of Enchantment”.

Contemporary Christian singer Fernando Ortega, being a native New Mexican, seems to be intimately familiar with that natural beauty. It’s not so much that he writes songs about nature - rather, he appears to be in touch with the sorrows and dark times of the life of a Christian, and how these times are almost necessary to help us comprehend the beautiful and mysterious being that God is.

If you’re not familiar with Fernando Ortega, then you’d probably assume from his name that he makes Latin music. Wrong. Fernando has quietly made a name for himself over the past few years with his soothing blend of folk and light pop, with his own takes and a few old (and generally obscure) hymns to round out each collection of songs that he releases. While he tends to collaborate with talented musicians, vocalists and songwriters, the music on a typical Ortega album isn’t meant to dazzle you with instrumental prowess or vocal acrobatics. His approach is soft, pensive, and most of all reverent - call it “adult contemporary” if you will, but he’s got a lot more going for him than the typical, syrupy keyboard-driven output of perennial CCM favorites like Point of Grace or Bob Carlisle. The more organic feel places him closer to Rich Mullins or even Andrew Peterson, perhaps lacking some of the wit that makes those artists memorable, but making up for it with the meditative atmosphere he manages to create.

My introduction to Fernando was through the lovely song “Lord of Eternity”, which showed up as a hidden track on the WoW 1999 compilation. Fernando had a few albums out before then, but it was 2000’s Home that saw his popularity really start to grow. I couldn’t really get into that album (it struck me as a bit too plain), and so I forgot about Fernando until he cropped up on the second installment of City on a Hill earlier this year, singing an awesome duet with Third Day’s Mac Powell. The collaboration intrigued me, and I made a point to listen to a few songs from his latest release, Storm. I knew that the album was based around an exploration of suffering and sadness - the valleys of Christian faith - and such an exploration always intrigues me. I think I was also drawn by his interest in resurrecting old hymns - perhaps it was just boredom with the overflow of “modern worship” albums released in the last few years. I was well aware that Fernando’s style was mellower than most of my CD collection, but the songs I had heard seemed to be varied and well-textured enough to make the album a worthwhile purchase.

Half a year or so later, I don’t regret that purchase, even though I must admit I don’t listen to Storm with that much frequency (maybe once or twice a month). Most of the songs are slow, and the pauses between them tend to be long (five seconds or so), making it harder to feel a sense of continuity throughout the album, which is always a minus point in my book. However, there is a definite continuity in the lyrics, as Fernando describes times of being on the road and missing friends and family members, feeling lonely and perhaps distant from God. The whole approach is much like a spiritual journal, and while Fernando doesn’t tend to ask the sorts of piercing questions as say, Nichole Nordeman or Bebo Norman, it’s nice to hear his prayers (both personal and for the world around him) tied together with hymns that obviously have personal significance to him. It’s interesting to note that while Fernando says the idea for the album originated before September 11, 2001, a few of the songs seem to tie into the sorrows and questions created by that horrific string of events. In that sense, I’m sure this album has brought comfort to many who were deeply affected by that dark day, without being an attempt at all to cash in on the emotions it caused. Storm may not be for everyone, but it’s got a quiet but honest spirit to it that older listeners will enjoy due to it being easy on the ears, while some younger “thinking” Christians will respect it for avoiding the typical style of inspirational muzak.

Traveler
I long for my family and friends to remind me of where I have been
And where I am going, and where I come from…
The album starts off with a soft but steady drum beat, over which a gentle acoustic guitar and some bell-like sounds are played. Add a harmonica, and you’d have something awfully similar to Rich Mullins’ classic “Here in America”. This song is very reminiscent of that one, finding Fernando far from home, missing the ones he loves, but having a sense that this journey has a purpose - likely to minister to and fellowship with other Christians. His voice has a light but golden touch as he prays during the chorus: “Heavenly Father, remember the traveler, bring us safely home.” Woven through this song is a thread of comfortable familiarity, almost hearkening back to a 70’s soft-rock vibe, and Fernando does find comfort in God’s presence among strangers, as he describes visiting towns and singing “old hymns and prayer songs” with people in their home churches. As is the case with many of Fernando’s songs, this one was penned by his long-time songwriting buddies Elaine Rubenstein and John Andrew Schreiner.

Come Ye Sinners, Poor and Needy
View Him prostrate in the garden, on the ground your Maker lies
On the bloody tree behold Him, Sinner, will this not suffice?
The album’s second track brings a little more folk instrumentation into play, mostly driven by a pair of acoustic guitars and Fernando’s piano. Being the first of three hymns on the project, you’ll notice immediately that the lyrics and melody are a little more archaic, which can make it an odd fit next to Fernando’s usual style, as well as a little repetitive, since this hymn has a lot of verses. Thankfully, the song does break into a refrain here and there, and to shake things up a bit, Amy Grant shows up during the middle of the song and practically takes it home with her! Now, I know Amy Grant is a bit of a touchy subject among Christian music fans these days, and I don’t care to rehash the reasons for that, but I’ll just say that I think it’s time to forgive and move on. I do think that Amy’s appearance here was a bit of posturing on Word Records’ part to slowly re-introduce her to a skeptical audience (her own album of hymns being due out a few months after this one), I must say that her voice blends nicely with Fernando’s, in one of those unexpected but good pairings you’d expect to find on a City on a Hill album. When Amy is singing by herself - well, that’s another story. I can’t quite explain it, but sometimes there’s this quality to Amy’s voice that makes me feel like she’s trying too hard - like she randomly showed up at the studio and said “Gee, I love this song and it’s fun to sing, can I be on your album? Pretty please???” I got the same feeling from her duet with Delirious? on the Streams album a few years ago. Anyway, a decent track, but not the best vocal performance from either Fernando or Amy. Actually, the star of the show here is Chris Thile (of Nickel Creek fame), who inserts a lovely little mandolin break not long after Amy joins in.

Light of Heaven
The moon has covered up her eyes, my sister
I thought I’d find you here, but I am all alone…
This song (which I think was the album’s first radio single) kicks in with a more aggressive drum beat (“aggressive” by Fernando’s standards meaning you can tap your toe to it). The main instrument at work here appears to be the piano once again, which kind of sprinkles throughout the song here and there like a warm summer rain. There is a hint of sadness to Fernando’s voice as he starts to sing, relating his thoughts to various family members back home, almost personifying them in the elements of the strange and lonely world around him. Amidst the solitude, he pleads in the chorus for God to shine the “Light of Heaven” through, to “Shine the goodness of Your love upon this day.“ Perhaps the strongest element of the song is how it slowly fades out on the drum beat, the repeating piano chords, and soft female vocals. It doesn’t immediately jump out at you as being a killer song, but it’s really a good example of how Fernando can bring lights and darks together effortlessly to make a lovely composition.

Storm
It takes the rain between the lines to know what sorrow finds…
This acoustic ballad was an immediate favorite for me - it’s compellingly beautiful (and yet criminally short). There’s something wonderfully melancholy about Rich Nibbe’s finger-picking on the acoustic guitar, buoyed by a light percussion that is little more that light cymbal tapping, and perhaps a gentle keyboard tone in the background. Fernando describes a storm that is sometimes necessary for us “to really know the light”, and though he uses few words, his descriptions paint vivid rich colors in the mind of the listener - you can practically see those clouds breaking when he describes “the varnished sun lighting up the fields”. After what seems to be the song’s chorus settling back into another verse, the song gently draws to a close at around the two-minute mark as Fernando sings, “Between the black sky and the blue, I love You”. The first time through, I was thinking, “No! It can’t be over already!“, but honestly, the chord structure, melody, and rich imagery make it one of the strongest entries on the album, so I really can’t complain.

Cristina’s Dream
Fernando follows the title track up with a “quiet storm” of an instrumental track, driven by rolling piano and mournful violin. Somehow, it manages to communicate more with no words than most of his songs do. It’s hard to explain, but the music has a slightly Celtic quality to it. The piece was apparently inspired by a dream Fernando’s sister had once, and I don’t remember what that dream was about, but something tells me there was a tinge of sadness to it. I guess I have a personal attachment to this track due to the fact that my girlfriend is named Christine and she’s a bit of a dreamer, but I can confidently say that if you’re a minor-key lover like I am, you should give this track a listen.

Our Great God
Lord, we are weak and frail
Helpless in the storm…
Fernando’s collaboration with Mac Powell from City on a Hill makes its appearance here, except there’s one thing missing… Mac Powell. I guess the record label decided that it would be better for Fernando to sing this one alone on his solo album, but honestly, I really miss Mac’s booming voice on the majestic chorus. The arrangement is entirely the same, other than Fernando having to go back and re-record Mac’s parts, and for the most part it still works, though the slow electric guitar intro and strong drums during the chorus do seem a little “edgy” compared to the rest of the album. He might have been better off recording a different take altogether. Anyway, despite those little quibbles, I love the lyrical collaboration between the two, since Fernando gives the verses a hymn-like quality, while Mac gives it a rousing, easy-to-learn, big chorus (reminding me of Third Day‘s take on the Michael W. Smith classic “Agnus Dei“). It’d be perfect for any contemporary worship service, if not for the fact that Fernando uses a wider range than most people can sing comfortably, and the song is in the key of D flat. Most chords in the key of D flat are a pain to play on the guitar, and it makes me wonder who composed the music. Fernando tends to compose on piano, in which no key is that much harder to play than any other, but I also know that modern rocks bands have an affinity for tuning their guitars down a half step - so it’s anyone’s guess. Anyway, great song, though I think it ended better on City on a Hill 2, with the ringing bells and all - here it just kinda fades out.

Let All Mortal Flesh Keep Silence
Rank on rank the host of Heaven
Spreads its vanguard on the way…
If the slow pace of the album so far has been difficult for you to handle, then you’d better go get some coffee, because Fernando’s reading of this old French hymn is as slow and quiet as they come. Actually, it’s one of the most beautiful tracks on the album, with his lone voice just hanging out there over the solitary piano notes, and the empty space later being filled in by the light touch of an acoustic guitar, a violin, and another helping of mandolin, courtesy of Chris Thile. The melody has an almost medieval feel - it actually date’s back to a 5th century liturgy - and yet it works just fine with Fernando’s lone voice (a female backup vocal helps him out a little right at the end). Lyrically, the hymn focuses on the massive, awesome nature of God, and how frail man is in comparison - in the context of the album, it almost seems to be Fernando reminding himself of how God responded to Job’s questions in the midst of his darkest time of suffering. Yet the song also deals with God’s decision to appear on Earth as a fragile human being - so in a sense, it covers all aspects of the Trinity, adding to the sense of spiritual wonder that pervades the album.

This Time Next Year
Hold him high because we’re lifted in his laughter
And the gladness he has brought you as you walk these heavy miles…
Returning to Earth from the ancient, heavenly realm explored by the last song, Fernando now sings to his father, as his family welcomes the addition of a new baby boy. Again, there is a sad tone to Fernando’s voice as he reminisces about happy days spent with his family - he wrote this song when he thought that his father was going to pass away soon (turns out he didn’t, but pretend you don’t know that). Returning to more of a soft-rock feel (and we’re talking soft here), Fernando brings the temporal nature of human life to the forefront as he sings, realizing that his father may not be around “this time next year” when the grandson visits again, and therefore now is the time to celebrate the new life that God has given, to tell stories, and so forth. Musically, it’s more of a simple song, though Fernando still has a penchant for hitting that compelling chord at just the right moment (as in when he sings “You’ll want to take him down the old road behind your house”). Not a big, flashy, tear-jerker of a ballad, but it beats “Butterfly Kisses” any day.

A Place on the Earth
A quiet place in the world where I can bow
And confess that I fear where You have brought me, mysterious God…
The last upbeat song on the album is probably about as edgy or frantic as you’ll ever heard Fernando. It does bring in a slight touch of the Latin sound (Fernando’s rather good at bringing in slight touches of a lot of things, isn’t he?), mostly due to the percussion, but it’s not overwhelming. The song mostly fits into a folk/rock vein - the accordion during the chorus actually reminds me of Caedmon’s Call. Here Fernando is lamenting how quickly life seems to be passing, and a general feeling of emptiness inside of him, longing to find a safe place where he can get in touch with God’s presence again and recharge his batteries. His words are much like Psalms, as he acknowledges that God has been good to him for his entire life, and that he wants to know that goodness now in the midst of this dark period of faith. It’s a decent song, but there’s one flaw that always bugs me - where the chorus ends, it really feels like it should slip back into a minor chord, to flow more smoothly back into the verse, but instead, it resolves to a major chord, which just doesn’t seem to fit the mood of the song. Who knows, maybe he felt he was using too many minor chords or something. No big deal.

City of Sorrows
By the waters of Babylon, I sank down in shame
Covered in ashes, I called out Your name…
This is one of the most musically interesting songs on the album - it’s a ballad with a slight tinge of Southern Gospel to it, mostly driven by piano and violin, with a fluid 3/4 rhythm that seems to be inconsistent as to whether it occurs in patterns of 2 or 3. It doesn’t make the rhythm too hard to follow, but there isn’t always an emphasis on the notes you might expect there to be emphasis on. Anyway, this is the point where Fernando looks beyond the horizons of his own struggle with faith and prays over the struggles of a world at war - specifically in the much fought over city of Jerusalem. This song almost personifies the city, recognizing its place in the scheme of God’s plan but lamenting that “The blood of your people still darkens the stones.” It can be taken in a broader sense as a prayer for a world at war, and the song is especially poignant in light of the terrorist attacks, since a lot of the animosity towards Americans in the Middle East comes from our involvement in the oldest family feud in history - between Israel and Palestine. Without getting deeper into politics than what I really understand, I do know that a lot of that fighting is over a very small bit of land in Jerusalem - for many faiths and political powers, the universe seems to be centered there. It’s commendable that Fernando’s song is simply a prayer for the city, without taking any sides - just a wish that peace would come again. The mandolin appears again on this song, but curiously, it’s not Chris Thile playing this time, which is funny, because the effect it gives this song is more “Nickel Creek” than the songs on which he does appear.

Sing to Jesus
Christ who died, risen in paradise
Giver of mercy, giver of life…
Remaining in a 3/4 rhythm (but more regular this time), a flowing acoustic guitar opens this simple song of praise - Fernando’s attempt at a modern hymn. This song is very much focused on the sacrifice Christ made on the cross - His empathy with a hurting, dying world, and apparently this is the thought that provides Fernando the comfort to be led out of His valley. It’s not really an “answer” - since it’s obviously something he’s known for a long time, but still, the personal expression of worship brings some solace, and once again, he knocks it out of the park, musically speaking, with a delicious chord structure and some a nice female vocal part that weaves through the chorus. I like how he refers to Jesus in this song as “Lord of our shame” - someone who understands and embraces us in our darkest moments - it’s not one of those detached, happy-happy-joy-joy praise songs that I’m sure many of you are tired of hearing by now.

Jesus Paid It All
Sin had left a crimson stain
He washed it white as snow…
The album with on another hymn - this one appears to be more recent than the other two, but since the tune is public domain, I can’t really tell (and for the record, I wasn’t familiar with any of these hymns before hearing Fernando’s renditions). Once again, the mood is very reverent - so much that this song has a very “Sunday morning”, traditional church feel to it, as if Fernando were playing this song all by himself on the old upright to close the service. I have to admit, it seems almost repetitive to include this song after the last one, since the words seem very similar to me, and once again, the song’s meter is in 3.4, just slower this time. But there’s something about hymns that always resonates within me more so than even some of my favorite contemporary worship songs, just due to the presence of lyrics that probably required a bit more thought to write. Still, I have to admit this isn’t one of the more musically interesting ones, and not as good of a note to end on.

I’d say that Storm is right up your alley if you prefer the mellower end of CCM. It may not be as otherworldly or earth-shattering as some of Rich Mullins’ albums, and the overall flow of the album may put some listeners to sleep, but in my opinion it’s a vast improvement over a lot of the more corporate-sounding inspirational music these days. Fernando has been signed to a major label for at least three albums now, and you’d think he’d have been given a push to reinvent himself, to be more “pop”, or to compose an album of strictly worship songs or whatever, but you gotta hand it to him, he knows where his niche is and he’s consistent about staying there. It’s the type of album that helps you feel comfortable to “be still and know that He is God”, and not feel like you’re being spoon-fed all the answers to your problems. It’s much like an old friend, who may not be the most upbeat and exciting person to hang out with all the time, but he’s there to offer prayer and a listening ear when the storm clouds of doubt are brewing and you’re not sure who else would understand. I’d recommend this one to fans of the aforementioned Bebo Norman, Rich Mullins, and Andrew Peterson, the quieter end of Steven Curtis Chapman or Caedmon’s Call, and perhaps even Nickel Creek. (I have a hunch LifeStar might like to have it around for one of his mellower days.)

Oh, one minor trifle about the lyric booklet - reddish-orange is not a pleasant background color, nor does it fit with the storm cloud imagery on the cover.

TRACK REVIEW SUMMARY
Excellent: Cristina's Dream, Storm
Good: Traveler, Light of Heaven, Our Great God, Let All Mortal Flesh Keep Silence, This Time Next Year, City of Sorrows, Sing to Jesus
Decent: Come Ye Sinners Poor and Needy
Weak: A Place on the Earth, Jesus Paid It All
Skippable: NONE

Website: http://www.fernandoortega.com

Great Music to Play While: On a leisurely summer road trip through New Mexico.


Recommended: Yes