31/01/2025

Wardruna – Kiri Te Kanawa Theatre: January 30, 2025

In the foyer, black clothes prevail. Cloaks and helmets with horns even. These are serious fans. I ask two what genre Wardruna are. They were stuck for a moment. Norse-noir says one. Scandi-pagan says the other.

Inside, that same space where I’ve attended graduations, writers festivals, and opera, is tonight a very different time and place. It feels like we’re in a chapel awaiting a ritual: soft lighting, a projected rune-like image, sounds of pipes.

Suddenly, unexpectedly, it’s the world of te ao Māori: eleven warriors and wahine filling the stage, blades of pounamu mere flashing, whites of eyes visible from the eleventh row.

Palpable ferocity of the haka and keening of the karanga. Bodies looking primal. Not a support act but a reminder, perhaps, that indigenous traditions are pervasive and present in the here and now, linked as a web between hemispheres.

As they leave the stage I wonder: is it easier to admire indigenous cultures from faraway than closer to home under the cloud of colonisation? Is that why Moana and the Tribe yields larger audiences in Europe than here?

As the seven Wardruna members take the stage the projected symbol on thr backdrop fades – replaced by images of a mysterious bird, its screeches morphing into the mix of ancient percussive and stringed instruments.

The spotlight’s firmly on lead singer (and composer) Einar Selvik and vocalist Lindy-Fay Hella who, in early silhouette, suggests the outline of another recent Norwegian visitor to Auckland: Aurora.

As the opening song, Kvitravn, fades three adjectives come to mind: immersive, majestic, transporting.

That the lyrics are occluded by language are no matter; as with Sigur Ros, its feeling the drama and the majesty of the landscape that matters.

Next Hertan thumps like an amplified heartbeat. No longer a silhouette, Hella now suggests a high priestess.

Three songs in (are they songs?) and commenting on each suddenly feels redundant. It’s like dissecting an entity into parts. There’s something grander here. Less a set than a seamless cycle: songs that lean into each other, like the arc on the screen that becomes a disc and solar eclipse.

Songs from their new 2025 album Birna speaks of the bear, that totemic mammal invoking both fear and respect in northern latitudes. This is music grounded in the land and inspired by its occupants.

It’s a performance enhanced by stage set. Nothing flashy. Just a rippled fabric onto which projections allude to images of ancient significance. Shadows of the performers suggest cave paintings and strobe lights, thunderstorms.

Vocalist Lindy-Fay Hella moves more that others, unburdened by an instrument. Her dance is at times the graceful sway of an aspen in the wind; at others the frenzied limbs of a distressed animal. In full vocal flight, she offers a wail I haven’t heard since seeing Buffy Sainte-Marie. When her and Selvik’s arms are held high, they appear in praise and reverence as waves of percussive rhythm roll on from behind.

Other moments there’s a rumbling earthy vocal from the band akin to Tibetan throat singing. Allusions to the wide web of first peoples’ across Planet Earth.

A mid-set highlight is when Selvik, platted goatee extending to his waist, stays alone on stage playing the tagelharpa, a Nordic bowed lyre, his voice swooping between registers. Another follows: Selvik and Eilif Gundersen play two lengthy bukkehorns, ancient instruments made from goat horn.

It’s eighty-five minutes in before a word is spoken. Selvik’s perfect English is a jolt as he says thank you and kia ora. His words then offer context for the night’s electrifying opening. A visit to Aotearoa twenty-five years earlier had exposed him to te ao Māori, leading Selvik to explore his own land’s indigenous sounds. The web of connection.

On rare occasions, music has the power to offer portals into other worlds. This was such an event. Concert, theatre, ritual. Wardruna beckoned into a wondrously different time and space. Astonishing is the adjective I walk away with.

Robin Kearns

Click on any image to view a photo gallery by Michael Jeong:

Wardruna: