Eivør – Tuning Fork, 19 November 2024: Review & Photo Gallery

Tonight, I experienced an artist who defies comparison. I’d spent the afternoon sampling a few of Eivør’s recorded tracks to get a sense of what I was walking into. I thought I was prepared. I wasn’t.

Once the show began, it was as if I had stepped through a veil into another realm entirely.

It was an unorthodox sight even for The Tuning Fork, a venue known for hosting an eclectic array of artists.

A motionless sea of faces, young, old, and everything in between, gathered in reverent silence, their intensity rivalled only by their individuality.

Office workers in button-ups stood shoulder to shoulder with hippies in flowing fabrics, while others adorned themselves in face paint or dazzling costume dresses. The air was thick with incense and earthy perfumes, creating a sensory tapestry before the first note even hit.

The room dimmed to a deep purple glow, and an almost sacred hush fell over the crowd. The anticipation was palpable. And then, it began.

As the stage lights brightened, four shadowy figures emerged, shrouded in an almost cinematic aura.

At the centre stood Eivør herself, the Faroese songstress whose name not only leads the band but embodies its spirit. A dimmed spotlight zeroed in on her, and with a single note, she commanded the room.

Her voice was the first thing to strike. An instrument as vast and wild as the landscapes of her homeland. Mystic, haunting, and utterly transfixing, washed over the crowd like a tide, pulling us into her universe.

What sets Eivør Pálsdóttir apart is her ability to channel raw, elemental energy into her performance. It’s not just singing, it’s storytelling on a primal level.

Her voice is an instrument of its own. Soaring, growling, whispering, each shift imbued with purpose. The band provided the perfect backdrop, crafting soundscapes that felt both vast and intimate, with pulsing drums and atmospheric keys grounding her ethereal presence.

I found myself grasping for comparisons to help explain Eivør to those who hadn’t witnessed her spellbinding performance.

It wasn’t easy. Her artistry defies simple categorisation, but if I had to give it a shot, I’d say she’s the Viking Kate Bush of the Faroe Islands. Ethereal, primal, and utterly singular.

Tracks like Lívsandin and Upp Úr Øskuni revealed her mastery of mood. One moment, you’re adrift in a dream. The next, you’re rooted in something visceral and ancient.

The lighting was equally evocative, bathing the stage in shifting hues that mirrored the emotional arc of each song.

Then came Upp Úr Øskuni, the low-end thrum of the drums and keys pushing past 101 dB(A), resonating deep in the chest.

The vibrations felt primal, stirring something ancient and unspoken. Then came her voice, a sound both ethereal and commanding, as if a Viking goddess had descended to sing stories of love, longing, and the endless dance between light and darkness.

Then there’s her stage presence. Between songs, Eivør was disarmingly genuine, sharing stories in accented English about herself and the untamed beauty of the Faroes.

But as soon as the music began, she shifted into something elemental. Dancing, eyes closed, channelling energy that felt as ancient as the volcanic cliffs of her home.

The crowd, a diverse tapestry of ages and styles, was frozen in collective awe. It’s rare to see such stillness at a live show. Yet, this wasn’t silence born of distraction. It was the kind of quiet where you could feel everyone leaning into the music utterly entranced.

Eivør’s performance isn’t just music, it’s a journey.

Tonight, we were swept away to her Faroe Islands homeland, where the landscapes are rugged, the skies are wide, and the stories are steeped in folklore and longing.

Eivør’s set was more than music, it was a shared transcendence. Her connection to her Faroese roots bled into every moment, each note carrying the weight of a storm-swept coastline, every pause a reflection of the vast, quiet skies of her homeland.

The evening reached its zenith with a strobe-lit climax, sending at least one audience member, the night’s lone casualty, sprawling from sensory overload.

But even they seemed satisfied, as if surrendering to the overwhelming energy was part of the journey.

Eivør, fresh off her stint supporting Heilung, has stepped confidently into the spotlight as a headliner, and her first New Zealand show was nothing short of extraordinary.

She brought with her not just music, but an experience that enveloped and captivated. This wasn’t just a concert—it was a communion, a moment out of time, and for everyone packed into The Tuning Fork last night, it was unforgettable.

The audience was no longer just watching. They were part of her world. The line between performer and listener had dissolved, leaving only a collective experience of awe.

Eivør isn’t just a singer, she’s a force of nature. Her music doesn’t ask to be heard, it demands to be felt, pulling you into its depths and refusing to let go.

Last night wasn’t just a concert, it was a journey into the heart of something primal and breath-taking. And for those lucky enough to be there, it’s a journey they won’t soon forget.

For a little over an hour, we lived in her world, and when the final note faded, it was hard to return to ours.

If you’ve ever wondered what it feels like to be transported by sound, to lose yourself completely in the magic of live music, Eivør is your ticket. Tonight, she proved that she’s not just an artist, she’s a portal to the extraordinary.

Paul Marshall

Photography by Leonie Moreland