As soon as I walked into the iconic Sydney Opera House (23 May), which was lit up as part of the Sydney's Vivid festival, I knew two things.
One: I was about to see something special. Having seen Sigur Ros more than once already, I knew what an amazing live experience they were, adding in the world renowned Sydney Symphony Orchestra in such a beautiful setting and it was bound to be excellent.Two: I was underdressed and going off the wildly extravagant dress of the majority of the crowd, not only was I underdressed but I lacked at least 60 IQ points and at least one liberal arts degree, but I digress.
After a quick tune by the Orchestra, the three members of the band – Jón Þór 'Jónsi' Birgisson, Georg Hólm, and Kjartan Sveinsson, accompanied by the conductor Robert Ames enter the stage to an appreciative audience.
They start with 'Blóðberg', a track from their 2023 record 'Átta', a song that makes you feel like you are both floating in a pool of ethereal nothingness and also that you are holding your breath. It's poignant and scarce, and it's the perfect prelude to a night that feels increasingly intimate as it goes on.
They move effortlessly into 'Ekki múkk' from the album 'Valtari', an uplighting affair that has the audience ascending into the heavens on beams of light emanating from the band and orchestra.
Image © Sinan Beytas
Tonight isn't a Sigur Ros concert. This isn't the band AND an orchestra. It's the perfect melding of both. Sigur Ros sits within the Orchestra; Jonsi, most of the time, is the only discernible member of the band and only because he was standing to play his famous bowed guitar – even then he was placed off to stage right in amongst the other stringed instruments.
There is no ego on display, the lighting is subtle, with illuminated globes scattered throughout the Orchestra doing most of the heavy lifting, and it's absolutely stunning. The band then plays a personal early highlight, the piano-led 'Fljótavík'.
They move gracefully from track to track playing tracks off all their studio records, including 'Von' utilising the percussion section amazingly and 'Starálfur', which received the first, and I am sure frowned upon, 'woo!' from the audience.
The show continues along at this unfathomably high standard; the entire performance is flawless, from the opening of the 'Untitled #1' to start the second act, to the euphoric fan favourite, 'Hoppipolla' and the band-less coda to the entire affair, 'Avalon', it really is stunning.
Jonsi's voice is simply heavenly. It's as though all the Norse gods decided to bestow all the power of the universe upon one man's vocal chords and it's this perfection, the impossibly high quality of the entire evening that is perhaps what leaves me a little wanting.
Image © Sinan Beytas
Although in describing tonight, I have run out of synonyms for beautiful, I'm not leaving a heartbroken mess and I wanted to be. Tonight allowed the audience to pause what was going on for them outside, what was happening around the world and sit in a moment.
The moment aurally and visually was really (searches Google for another synonym for beautiful) pulchritudinous. I would be a buffoon to not have the awareness to know that it really was a special event and that I was lucky to witness it.
However, for me, the power of Sigur Ros resides in their ability to sonically and dynamically lift you above the din, above the banal platitudes of day-to-day existence, not just to create a safe space to block it out for a while. To create moments of lasting change, to alter something inside you.
Image © Sinan Beytas
The first time I heard 'Sæglópur' I played it almost non-stop on my old Windows 2000 desktop and watched the film clip over and over and over, and it changed my musical life.
It's the power of the big moments juxtaposed against the small that make those tiny moments so beautifully fragile and delicate, and with a two-plus hour show of those quiet moments it loses some of its je ne sais quoi. Perfect? Yes. Too perfect? Maybe.
- written by Mark Owen
More photos from the concert.
