Swinscoe and co offer an album of side dishes, proving that a disc of fluffy appetizer's still leave you hungry for more, especially when you know what the taste is like. This continues a seemingly self-indulgent creative decline after a brief two-disc smashing introduction. The music is pretty, though shallowly so, with little to no backbeat supporting the bloated minimalism.

The cd is accompanied by a series of stark photographs ("largely unpeopled") and liner note text explains that the music on Ma Fleur is "inspired by but not tied specifically to any of them".... it's certainly too easy to say that this is cinematic music for a movie that exists only in the composer(s)'s mind(s).

Atmospheric, ponderous, downbeat, reflective, with a hint of jazz, but almost new-agey at times, this album is always lovely, always earnest and sometimes a bit of a bore. The majority is instrumental, with scattered and ably-sung male and female vocals in different spots. If you close your eyes and try to imagine a story that this music can accompany, it's a worthy and interesting exploration. But from a purely musical standpoint, I'm not sure it really stands on its own as a whole. If I could do it all over again, I'd probably stick with track 3, an overdubbing clarinet/sax-featured piece that provides a little tension to the prolonged release of much of the rest of Ma Fleur.

It took five years for the follow up to 2002's highly acclaimed Every Day.
"Ma Fleur" once again sees Jason Swincoe draw on the talents of a disparate group of performers, often from jazz backgrounds, to create the subtle, swelling orchestral sounds that reference the constructive forms of film soundtracks and prove devilishly difficult to describe.As mentioned, there are quite a few jazz influences in here, but they also owe a debt to trip-hop pioneers like The Orb and indeed to Drum and Bass in places. Small wonder that Swincoe's loose band of performers also include turntablists like Patrick Carpenter.
"Ma Fleur" is billed as the soundtrack for a film that hasn't yet been made, which would clearly be a weepie if it ever were. Themes of lost love and mourning run through "Ma Fleur" in thick stripes.
Because Swincoe is interested in creating moods and conveying emotions, he structures his albums, as you might expect, to tell a story.
He employs a wide range of singing talent who represent the viewpoints of characters in his tales.
The opening track, "To Build a Home", a grand, billowing piano ballad which could draw admiring sighs from Antony Hegarty or Chris Martin, is as immediate as it gets.
Elsewhere, moonlighting vocalists, including Lou Rhodes and Fontella Bass, are like shapes in the twilight, softly merging with nuanced arrangements which evoke the maverick work of David Axelrod, Charles Stepney and Talk Talk's Mark Hollis.
As said before, the veteran singer Fontella Bass (best known for the vocals on "Rescue Me"), who also appeared on "Every Day", returns to lend her cracked gospel vocals to the slow and elegiac "Breathe", and "Familiar Ground".
There's a sense of space; an absence of clutter; an enrapturing hush.
Neither jazz nor trip-hop nor any other label you might care to slap on it, "Ma Fleur" delineates an immensely moving, utterly distinct night-time world which is a pleasure to inhabit. There is the odd moment when things do flirt with pretentiousness, or merely sound like soundtrack fillers (the title track, in particular), but Jason Swinscoe has otherwise created an absolutely breathtaking experience that really does quietly move you through a number of exquisite emotions.

A very good record, built like a tour of intense and intimate music. Great vocals, wonderful musicians, and a deep sense of peace that flows out of the music.

I was out shopping for music and was looking for something new when I ran across this album. The cover of the album caught my eye. I'd never heard of The Cinematic Orchestra (...or I should say, that I can't ever recall hearing of them.)but I decided to take a chance on this album based on... well nothing really. (...but the cover I guess. Which is rather strange, because something with a cover that serene would not usually make me take a second glance.) I felt drawn to "Ma Fleur". I felt that there was perhaps something special about this album and I was correct.

This album is inspired, almost as if it was channeled! You get the sense that "Ma Fleur" was out there, somewhere in the vastness of time and space, waiting for someone to come along and discover it! As a concept album, it feels complete. Every song seems to seamlessly flow into the next like water through a tranquil stream.

At no point does "Ma Fleur" ever demand your attention... well at least not in the typical sense. It never tries to dazzle you with it's arrangement or production aesthetics. "Ma Fleur" feels like it was made for the pure satisfaction of the musical creation, and not necessarily for the entertainment of an audience. (...or album sales for that matter.)

That being said, I found the album hypnotic and the music seductive. The music lulled me into a place of vulnerability and openess, which made it difficult to passively listen. I wanted to approach it with a present state of mind and really absorb it all. I didn't want to miss a single moment.

"Ma Fleur" never feels forced. Every moment of the album feels like it has a purpose and the use of silence contributes to this. The silence of "Ma Fleur" is it's strength! If this album were Michelangelo's "Statue of David", the silence would certainly be the marble from which it is made.

Although I am happy to have discovered "TCO", I am grateful that this album was my first experience because I have been allowed the opportunity to listen without prejudice. I am appreciative that I was able to come to this album without presumptions or expectations. Among my favorite albums I have often wished that I could explore them for the first time all over again... with time I'm sure that this album will be in that same category.