The early dark of winter descended and I sought refuge in the St Pancras Old Church, lit yellow by flickering candles and warmed with the echoes of respectfully hushed voices. A trestle table at the entrance sold wine from boxes and rows of fold up chairs faced the small stage. The astonishingly intimate venue, housing an audience of 100 or less was warmed by icelandic folk singer Snorri Helgason, whose quiet, smooth vocals fitted the hushed venue perfectly, the small audience listening attentively to the bearded balladeer and his acoustic guitar. A short break and Ólöf bumbled on stage,...25/11/2011 | Ólöf Arnalds – St Pancras Old Church, Londo...
The early dark of winter descended and I sought refuge in the St Pancras Old Church, lit yellow by flickering candles and warmed with the echoes of respectfully hushed voices. A trestle table at the entrance sold wine from boxes and rows of fold up chairs faced the small stage. The astonishingly intimate venue, housing an audience of 100 or less was warmed by icelandic folk singer Snorri Helgason, whose quiet, smooth vocals fitted the hushed venue perfectly, the small audience listening attentively to the bearded balladeer and his acoustic guitar. A short break and Ólöf bumbled on stage,...