Two weeks prior to this gig, Gwenno was one of the nominees for the 2022 Mercury Prize, which was cancelled with only hours’ notice due to the death of Queen Elizabeth II. The ceremony is yet to be rescheduled, and if any of the judges happened to be in attendance at her Village Underground gig on Tuesday night, they might just have been provided with an extra nudge to hand it her way.
The half-Welsh, half-Cornish artist was nominated for third album Tresor, which saw her sing almost entirely in the Cornish language and tell stories old and new from her homeland with reverence and passion. The record followed 2014 debut Y Dydd Olaf (sung mainly in Welsh) and 2018 follow up Le Kov, both of which presented an artist deeply passionate about her two homes and their histories.
A few songs into the Shoreditch gig, the effervescent performer asked the crowd: “Do you ever want to know what the songs are about? I never know whether I should keep it all a mystery!” The warm reaction that followed led Gwenno to then explain a little about the songs – as well as their English translations – before each track was performed, and the extra meaning gleaned from the explanations that followed gave the crowd a better sense of their strong foundational settings and put them right in the Welsh rivers and Cornish countryside she sang of.
From there, she led us through a “love letter to technology” on the beautiful Jynn-Amontya (meaning computer in Cornish), the deeply atmospheric Tonnow (meaning ‘waves’, and about “the spirit of the sea seducing you into the very bottom”) and stirring penultimate song Chwyldro (‘revolution’), which folded out into an extended jam before ending with a cacophonous noise led by Gwenno’s impassioned roars.
Among the whimsical tales of nature and countryside, there was also time for both humorous and political moments in the show. On Eus Keus? (translating as “Is there cheese?”) she led the crowd through a giddy Cornish chant about her deep desire for this particular food. Its chorus goes: “Is there cheese? Is there or isn’t there? If there’s cheese, bring cheese, and if there isn’t cheese – bring what’s easy!”
Just minutes later, she was running through N.Y.C.A.W. (Nid Yw Cymru Ar Werth, translating as Wales Is Not For Sale), with the slogan adorning the screen behind her. When, at the track’s apex, the message changed to ‘The NHS is not for sale’, a political power joined hands with quirky storytelling.
Ending with a song by fellow Cornish artist Richard Gendel – “the best folk songwriter in Britain that no-one’s ever heard of,” said Gwenno – her clear admiration for her dual homes, and the stories she sung about them, shone through on a night of education and adulation. Such were the depth and vividness of her stories that it was almost a shock when returning outside to the muggy late summer London air.
