Originally published at kemptation.com on 12 November 2015. Words by Richard Kemp

(Photo credit: Jenny Berger Myhre)

Monday 9th November 2015

An angelic, yet haunting, performance from Seattle-based singer Briana Marela precedes Norwegian purveyor of avant-garde, and unapologetic crosser of lines, Jenny Hval. While Marela’s hand had gently built up feelings of pop-laced euphoria, Hval takes pleasure in announcing to the Bristol crowd that her hand is very different. A severed hand, perhaps.

Perched atop a half-deflated yoga ball and wearing a Goldilocks blonde wig, Hval cuts a slight stage presence. Her curious personality and penchant for the uncomfortable, however, envelope the entire venue. This is embodied perfectly as she wanders through the first few rows of seating, an ethereal shape dressed in grey that is neither on this plain nor beyond it.

Terrifying screams are juxtaposed with uplifting, industrial beats that, when silenced, create a gaping chasm of loneliness almost too raw to bear.

Previous tours of Hval’s have included live bands and a focus on instrumentation while this show is very much centred on her performance. Screams of “who does your feeling?” and “so much death” serve to terrify while juxtaposed with uplifting, industrial beats that, when silenced, create a gaping chasm of loneliness almost too raw to bear.

It’s not all so serious, though. Hval proves that she has a sense of humour, referring to the yoga ball as her ‘spirit animal’ and even assuring the awestruck crowd that not everyone in Norway sings this kind of music.

We sit through a short, awkward timeout, during which Hval patiently plays a cover of Lana Del Rey’s Summertime Sadness through a smartphone, and then the theatrics take a turn for the outlandish. Hval removes her blonde wig and places it on the floor above her now-also-removed jacket and trousers to create a flat model of herself. Dressed now all in black, she lays next to the empty frame, appearing to either dominate her own stage persona or submit to the empty vessel she has presented herself – all this soundtracked by a montage of Hval’s howling vocals.

Hval invites the audience to chat after her set, though she warns that she often makes no sense after a show. While a few people may have felt this way during the show, most will have left The Lantern giddy from having witnessed something that boldly challenges the way we think about live music performance.

8/10