Location: Piazza Unitá / Tarvisio / Italy
Concert date: 23.07.2013
Attendance: 2500
Ticket price: €48.70
If someone had told me a year ago that I’d see Sigur Rós three times in just over six months, I’d have laughed in their face at the very least, and most likely I’d have snapped at them to quit teasing me with such dreamy scenarios. But dreamy scenarios are exactly Sigur Rós’ domain. And just as they do that with their music, turning dreams into reality, the same happened to me – in just over six months I saw Sigur Rós a full three times. And the third time… well, the third time I decided I’d carry on with the dream scenario and stand in front of the Icelanders’ stage every time I possibly can.
Don’t get me wrong – the first two experiences were already mildly religious. All that religious blather about otherworldly experiences and feelings is one of the few things that actually holds up, except that in these cases my god was Sigur Rós. But at this show in Tarvisio, in a lovely little Slovenian-Italian town just past the border, I got close to Sigur Rós on a level so personal that I’ve done it with very few bands. And Tarvisio itself probably had a lot to do with that.
Sigur Rós played Tarvisio as part of the No Borders festival, which is probably some huge cultural event for the town, one that drives their cultural (and by extension musical) scene. It’s wild to see how the people of Tarvisio support their scene, because I may have seen such varied folk as I did at this show only at a Vlado Kreslin gig. And trust me, Kreslin is far more down-to-earth than some Icelandic experimentalists. Around 2500 people of all sizes, ages, probably faiths, races, beliefs and musical tastes gathered in Tarvisio’s main square – Piazza Unitá. I saw 13-year-old boys slurping their Pepsis and I saw gray-haired grannies in headscarves who had just come back from the market. And everything in between. Most of the crowd, of course, wore Radiohead shirts, since they had played Udine a few months earlier, so it was nice to see that Italian support for this kind of band, wherever they happen to be playing, is considerable. That’s why, all in all, this was more than just going to a Sigur Rós show. No Borders festival is, quite obviously, a statement. The voice of the people. People who care about the local scene in these times, who understand the importance of their own involvement and of art itself in today’s art-suppressing society. And when you add to all that the fact that the ticket cost almost 50 euros (though I suspect locals had subsidized tickets, or maybe a lot of tickets were even given away), we realize we’re witnessing something fantastic. Something… magical.
The evening kept on surprising – before the show you could spot the musicians relaxing as they got ready to go on stage, with drummer Orri and bassist Goggi smacking Jónsi on the butt while he made some weird noises in return. Totally in line with the trio’s recent habits, which shatter the myth of the band’s epic mystery and seriousness and the Icelanders’ coolness. And that playfulness and looseness moved onto the stage and settled into the crowd. The whole crowd.
That night I saw Sigur Rós really improvise for the first time (and believe me, I’ve watched a good pile of live recordings on our beloved YouTube). Jamming. Jónsi and Orri grinning at each other as they answer each other on their instruments. Jónsi keeping time by bumping his forehead into the mic. Improvising with guitar feedback. Actually taking the space and time to improvise. If you’ve ever seen the band live, you may remember those mystery-infused scenes created by the flickering bulbs on stage. Well, Jónsi smashed one of them at the end of the show in a full rush of adrenaline. Totally rock’n’roll.
Rock’n’roll was kind of the guiding spirit of the night, even though we neither played nor heard any rock’n’roll. 13-year-old boys were headbanging, grannies in headscarves were headbanging, I was headbanging. In those magical-fantasy moments, every last one of us was in ecstasy, swaying back and forth as if half asleep. 13-year-old boys, grannies in headscarves, me. And the collective consciousness that an incredibly down-to-earth Sigur Rós created this time was truly one of a kind. One. Of. A. Kind.
There isn’t much written about the music itself. Maybe because this time the music didn’t guide my hand as I wrote. Maybe because I’ve experienced Sigur Rós’ music so many times that I’m writing about something else instead. Or maybe because this time the music just wasn’t what mattered, because we weren’t actually witnessing (only) that. That’s for each person to decide for themselves.
Setlist
Yfirborð
Brennisteinn
Glósóli
Vaka
Ísjaki
Sæglópur
Svefn-g-englar
Hrafntinna
Varúð
Hoppípolla
Með Blóðnasir
Kveikur
Festival
–dodatek–
E-bow
Popplagið
Photo Gallery
