The Sigla Blog

In the venue formerly known as The Temple Bar Music Centre, a thundery backdrop slowly builds as four women pick their way onto a packed stage. There is barely room to move for musical instruments, (we’re later informed 136 strings have to be tuned for each gig) and two begin to slowly drag violin bows over the edges of a xylophone and glockenspiel. The effect is eerie and the audience holds its breath, mesmerised.

Welcome to the enchanting world of Amiina. Until their debut Kurr was released this year, the Icelandic group were best known as the string section for Sigur Ros. Like their countrymen, they conjure up melancholic postcards of home with compositions that beguile. Listening to the album is one thing, but hearing . and seeing . their music executed live is unforgettable. Although each member has a trade instrument - María (violin), Hildur (violin), Edda (viola) and Sólrún (cello) . there are (at this reviewers count) at least 30 instruments on stage. A laptop, providing loops and metronomic beats, no doubt houses another handful and a touring drummer provides occasional percussion.

Watching the quartet move around, swapping instruments means it’s hard to take your eyes off the stage. Logistics aside, the music is what people have come for and dipping generously into Kurr, they don’t disappoint. Amiina favour layers that sound off-the-cuff, but are obviously scrupulously scored. ‘Rugla’ starts with xylophone and guitar before a pitch-bending saw appears. On ‘Boga’, singing wine glasses are slowly joined by a kalimba and cello while ‘Sogg’ is driven by hand-played desk bells. Shyly the band tell us they love playing Dublin and joke about not being used to the humidity. After a wall of accordion, harp, trombone, hand held keyboards and strings, two encores included ‘Ammaelis’, a playful Casio-beat number and a short piece with all four playing saws.

With dimmed lights, Amiina’s soporific tunes entranced a respectfully hushed audience before sending them home to bed with a head full of blissed-out nursery chimes.