Anna von Hausswolff has always seemed like an artist best suited to the darker months. But arriving in Bristol in January—the city slick with rain, the sky stuck in a permanent grey—her music feels less like a booking and more like a public service.
At Thekla, the improbably intimate, boat-shaped venue permanently docked in the harbour, von Hausswolff and supporting act Hinako Omori deliver a night of deep listening, heavy atmosphere and total immersion.
It’s a rare pleasure when a supporting act doesn’t simply warm the room but actively reshapes it. Omori does exactly that. The London-based Japanese artist specializes in hushed, meditative ambient music that feels more discovered than written. Armed with an array of synthesizers and small gadgets, she builds soundscapes that drift, shimmer, and gently pulse, each piece bleeding seamlessly into the next. Her presence feels quietly otherworldly, as if a mythical kingdom had been handed a table of modern electronics to soundtrack itself.
The worlds she constructs are so delicate that applause feels intrusive. Several tracks dissolve into silence, leaving the audience hesitant, unsure whether to clap or simply remain suspended. Many stand with eyes closed, bodies still, unwilling to break the spell. Omori occasionally thanks the crowd, visibly delighted to be performing in such an iconic nautical venue. Her half-hour set is a masterclass in mood-setting: beautiful, entrancing, and quietly transportive.
Anna von Hausswolff’s arrival shifts the atmosphere from weightless to crushing. The Swedish artist—often described as art-pop with gothic edges, or “funeral pop” if you prefer The Guardian’s label— is touring Iconclasts, her sixth album and arguably the culmination of a 16-year journey. Released October 2025 to universal acclaim, it features collaborations with Iggy Pop and Ethel Cain. The record is a brooding behemoth, and feels even more vast when witnessed live.
I’m tucked near the stage, squeezed beside Bristol legend Big Jeff, who is attending his fifth von Hausswolff show. It’s immediately clear this is a devoted crowd. People crane to glimpse the setlist, phones discreetly raised. They are reverent rather than restless. The set spans 12 (admittedly chunky) tracks and bounces between extremes. Moments of unexpected pop sheen appear, particularly when the show settles on “Stardust,” where sweet melody replaces gloom. Other tracks, like “Aging Young Beauty,” offer delicate, aching beauty that hushes the room completely.
Then there’s the terror. “Ugly and Vengeful.” Stretching to 16 minutes, the track feels like the sound of slowly falling into madness, a relentless descent driven by pounding drums, vast organ swells, and von Hausswolff’s voice shifting from devotional to downright unhinged. The intensity is overwhelming. One attendee takes a turn and is dragged out by her husband for air. Echoes of PJ Harvey, Nick Cave, Sigur Rós, and drone lords Sunn O))) swirl through the set. Yet von Hausswolff’s voice—vast, commanding, and unwavering—remains the anchor.
The sheer physicality of the sound is staggering. Pipe organ, synths, bass, and thunderous drums collide in towering waves. The sound easily rattles Thekla’s metal hull. Amid this sonic force, the night’s unexpected MVP emerges: saxophonist Otis Sandsjö.
His playing is ferocious and unrestrained, slicing through the mix with an intensity that borders on the transcendental. It’s some of the most mind-blowing sax playing I’ve ever seen.
The encore begins with “Funeral For My Future Children,” far more soothing than the title suggests. It transitions seamlessly into the groovy, gritty-as-hell “Struggle With the Beast,” bringing the night to a climactic close. As the final notes fade, Big Jeff bellows, “That was amazing!” Laughter spreads through the crowd. Everyone agrees. 2026’s gig coverage gets off to a phenomenal start.