Live Music Review: Reykjavík Folk Festival Provides Shelter From The Storm

On a weekend in the middle of March, the historic Iðnó stands within a snowy storm. Warm inside, the guests of Reykjavík Folk Festival enjoy acoustic harmonies woven into rich storytelling. It’s the second year the festival’s been held since a hiatus from 2018 and with a wide range of musicians playing sets around 50 minutes, it’s surely not missing one of its core values “spilagleði”, or the joy of playing.

Friday started strong with students from the Reykjavík College of Music, MÍT, filling up the second floor. I arrived late and had to peer through the door, crammed with six other people, all eager to witness the skilfully constructed indie pop/folk tunes the young musicians had to offer. Theódóra, the first of two acts, strummed the guitar while singing in a velvety voice. The second act, Ásgeir Helgi, played songs that had a Beatlesque quality and light-heartedness to them that reminded me a lot of modern bands making 60s style music, like the Lemon Twigs.

I find a comfortable seat on the first floor while Ásgeir Ásgeirsson plays the oud. In front of the stage are tables decorated with white flowers that match the blizzard outside. As the clock strikes eight, Harpa Þorvaldsdóttir, one of the festival’s organizers, steps onto the stage and gives a speech going over the history of the festival. She reads from her iPad but excuses this by telling us how forgetful she is and the audience chuckles.

Ghosts among us

Svarar Knútur’s set can best be described as half-music, half-stand up, with him introducing each song in length and touching on subjects such as the overwhelming smell in Hagkaup’s perfume section and the possibility of an accountant-ghost residing in Iðnó. Since finishing his more than a decade-long project on grief, he is now shifting his focus to using old Icelandic folklore as inspiration. He blended the new story-rich songs with older classics from his catalogue, leaving the audience happy and relaxed.

The festival continued with Umbra next on stage and following them, an ode to Icelandic folk music, played by a collection of various Icelandic folk musicians.

Reaching the core

First on stage Saturday were the solo artists Soffía Björg and Fríða Dís who frequently play together. Being just the two of them playing guitar and bass their songs were stripped down from how they are usually play, bringing us “closer to their core” as Fríða tells the audience. The two of them were not only in tune with the music but also in tune with each other. Between filling the room with their dynamic singing they were finishing each other’s sentences and cracking jokes. Soffía played her Icelandic translation of Over the Rainbow, the eighth version known to exist, and when the song ended someone in the audience shouted: “Best version!”

Next on the programme, blue light bathed the stage as Árstíðir’s music washed over the audience like a magnificent sea. They switched between playing as a full band and singing vibrant acapella in parallel fifths, upholding an old folk tradition. They received an encore, but told the audience they are resting their famous version of the song “Heyr himna smiður,” and instead sang another song from the same album, Vetrarsól. Right after their performance, a recording of the longed-for song played on the speakers.

Closing the festival, popular singer-songwriter Una Torfadóttir walked on stage with an acoustic guitar. Beside her, her boyfriend Hafsteinn played an electric guitar that added an ethereal vibe to the songs. Una partook in what seemed to be a ritual in the performances of the festival by introducing the stories behind each song she played. After being clapped back onto stage she played a short, unreleased song with a sweet chord progression. A song about thankfulness with funny rhymes, and it felt like she was thanking the audience.

As the final night ended, and as people put on their coats, ready to take on the wind, gratitude stayed in the air.

(In addition to our live review, The Reykjavík Grapevine did a Drop In video podcast with Reykjavík Folk Festival director Sigmar Þór Matthíasson here.)