A Journey Through Silence, Sound, and Soul – From the moment Ólafur Arnalds steps onto the stage, it’s clear this is no ordinary concert — it’s a voyage. Between delicate, haunting melodies tonight, Arnalds shares glimpses into his world of constant travel and deep reflection. When not touring, he confesses, he escapes by wandering the globe, drawing inspiration from the places he visits. On this night, it was the Balinese Nyepi — the “Day of Silence” — a day when the entire island shuts down in quiet meditation. The irony isn’t lost on him when he jokes about taking a hot bath on Bath’s own Hot Bath Street earlier that day — a moment of surreal connection between his travels and the city hosting him.

But tonight’s experience goes deeper than travel anecdotes. Arnalds pulls back the curtain on his unlikely journey from hardcore punk drummer to one of modern classical’s most sensitive voices. He reminisces about his first visit to Bath in 2007, pounding the drums for the underground punk band Fighting Shit in cramped pubs. It’s almost impossible to reconcile that rough-edged past with the fragile beauty he now creates.

Yet, the seeds of this musical transformation were planted early, nurtured by the tender influence of his grandmother. The metal-loving, punk-thrashing Ólafur would sit with her, enveloped in Chopin’s sonatas, a stark contrast to his own youthful rebellion. He shares a poignant memory: at her deathbed, she lay frail yet serene, listening to Chopin one last time. “She was old and sick, but very happy and proud,” he says softly. “I kissed her goodbye and left. She passed away a few hours later.”

That intimate connection reverberates through tonight’s final piece — Lag Fyrir Ömmu (Song for Grandma). As the first notes fill the room, the full circle of his story settles over the audience like a warm embrace. It’s a fragile, evocative farewell that makes every note, every silence, profoundly meaningful.

Ólafur Arnalds’ music is a journey — through time, memory, and emotion — and tonight, it’s impossible not to be carried along.