Secret Meeting score: 80
by Phil Scarisbrick
As I drove to this evening’s venue – The Pontio at Bangor University – I was stunned by the beauty that surrounded me. The asphalt puncturing a path through the North Wales coastline, tunnelling through cliff faces. To my right, I had a setting sun illuminating the calm Irish sea and, to my left, I had stunning natural beauty, littered with centuries of man-made constructions. Wales is a country that is steeped in culture and mysticism. Though it is now hard to separate it from its English neighbour, barring sporting rivalries and road signs, it has its own unique character. Its language is far more widely spoken than most outsiders realise. Often, as is the case with most modern art, the acknowledgement of this heritage usually only goes back a very short period. Owing to the limited audience that understand records sung in minority languages can usually get, often acts will opt to play it safe and write in the more universally understood English. A few artists though look deeply into their people’s past and embrace their tongues. One such performer is former Pipettes frontwoman: Gwenno.
Released earlier this year, her superb sophomore album – Le Kov, delves into her Cornish genes. Her father, Tim Saunders, is a Cornish language poet and this led her to write a record entirely in this dialect. Tonight, in the newly regenerated Pontio venue, we got to see this record come alive. Opening with Sisial Y Mor from her first solo album – Y Dydd Olaf – the synth-heavy sounds were immediately set against a psychedelic backdrop that added real atmosphere to proceedings. Following up with Le Kov opener, Hi a Skoellyas Liv a Dhagrow, and single, Tir Ha Mor, the initially timid audience were now totally engaged. The latter has been widely shared following her performance on Later with Jools Holland, and its familiarity was evident.
Gwenno is a superbly captivating performer. As the band move through other album highlights such as Damromres y’n Howl and Jynn Amontya, she glides around the stage draped in her mic lead like a snake charmer. Her between song chat was exclusively in her native Cymraeg (Welsh). This gave the whole night a very communal feel, delighting the Gwynedd audience.
Before set closer, Eus Keus?, she attempted to teach the crowd the Cornish chorus. One issue with singing in a language so few speak is that it may be hard for the audience to fully connect. This wasn’t an issue here though as the fast-paced, melodic stomper brought our evening to a joyous close.
As I drove home along the same road I’d journeyed along earlier, now illuminated only by artificial light, I had Le Kov on the stereo. Her use of these languages, which are such an integral part of her DNA, is wonderful. It adds real authenticity in an industry that is littered with contrived quirks and marketing ploys. On the evidence of tonight’s gig though, it wouldn’t matter what language she sang in. Her magical music and immense stage craft would still be utterly enthralling regardless.
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