16 June 2023 (gig)
17 June 2023
It was a sultry summer night by the bank of the river Thames and relief was had stepping inside the cool, incense-infused, space of the 1950s auditorium. With its bold cantilevered boxes and Harrison & Harrison pipe organ, the Festival Hall is as iconic as the carefully selected artists chosen to curate the annual Meltdown festival at London’s Southbank Centre.
Previous years has seen the likes of David Bowie, Patti Smith, Nick Cave among the honoured who get to direct the line up. This year, it was French pop artist Christine and the Queens who stepped up to curate the 28th edition of this music festival and tonight saw Icelandic ‘post-rock’ band Sigur Rós take to the stage with the London Contemporary Orchestra, as they mark the release of their first studio album in 10 years. Notably, founding members Jónsi and Georg Hólm have reunited with Kjartan Sveinsson, multi-instrumentalist and major contributor of the bands orchestral and string arrangements, bringing a valuable dynamic to their new compositions.
Sigur Rós provide not just a live show, but an experience to be immersed in. Ethereal, cinematic, entrancing, rapturous are maybe clichés to pull out from the music reviewer’s handbook, yet Sigur Rós have a legacy of being synonymous with such transcendent descriptive adjectives. In partnership with the LCO, they deliver a well-balanced collaborative performance that is intimate and tender.
There is no fanfare, no atmospheric ‘Pink Floydian’ lightshow or projected movie visuals to augment tonight’s performance. The stage and lighting are subtle, focusing attention to the breadth and depth of space that the music creates: taking the audience beyond and through. Conjuring that wonderful illusion that music as an artform alone can do, carrying the listener to somewhere other.
The band themselves are almost lost among the strings, brass, and percussion of the 41-piece orchestra. Every bit of space on stage seems to be taken up. Conductor Robert Ames leads the LCO and takes centre stage until Jónsi opens his mouth to sing, and his beautiful ‘angelic’ falsetto is unleashed.
This week saw the band release the first single Blóðberg from their long-awaited new album ÁTTA (Icelandic for eight) which soon followed across streaming platforms. With its accompanying video it conjures a heart wrenching juxtaposition of beauty and utter bleakness. In some ways I wish I hadn’t seen the video as when they open with the song tonight, the stage lights gently swelling with fiery reds and oranges, it leaves me slightly gutted.
It’s been said many times by different artists that songs can take on new meaning when they are released to the public and become part of the collective. Sigur Rós has always made music that evokes deep connection and emotion even when you don’t have a clue what they are singing about. On first listen, the new album feels connected to their second from last album Valtari - subtle and sublime - which at the time of release impacted me quite personally. The single from that album, Ekki múkk, follows Blóðberg. and Jónsi - with his cello-bowed guitar and otherworldly vocals - is captivating.
The LCO provide perfect range and depth with plenty of strength coming from the bass and cello. Sigur Rós discerningly give over to this, easing back on the usual effects that they would use to augment their compositions, allowing the nuances of a full orchestra to complement.
The first set includes Von from their first album and ends with Dauðalogn and Varðeldur again from Valtari. Without a word, Sigur Rós modestly leave the stage as the LCO downs-tools for an interval.
The second set opens with two renditions from their acclaimed ‘( )’ album - ‘Untitled 1’ followed by ‘Untitled 3’ which was welcomed by some cheers and applause when the familiar piano motif rolled in and Jónsi bowed his guitar.
The second set slowly developed in emotion and mood. Two new songs Ylur and Skel were weaved among popular tracks Heysátan and Sé Lest from arguably their most familiar album Takk, until their most recognisable song, Hoppípolla, lifts everyone’s spirit, even putting the briefest of smiles on Jónsi’s face. If opening song Blóðberg feels bittersweet because of its apocalyptic music video, Hoppípolla will always be synonymous with the joys and wonders of all that is wild, beautiful, and untamed after its famous use on Attenborough’s ‘Planet Earth’ series. The song arrives like sunshine through a gap in the clouds.
To rapturous applause, the band leave the stage with only the shyest of nods to the audience, leaving the LCO to fittingly have the last word as they play Avalon, the closing song from their breakthrough album Ágætis byrjun - the four double basses growling and groaning like an old galleon ship.
Sigur Rós have long made music that transcends - at times grandiose and at other times subtle and sparse. Tonight, they didn’t raise the roof, but in partnership with the LCO, they successfully showcased their commendable musical legacy.
Photo credit: Victor Frankowski
