Countess of the Berlin underground Joanna Gemma Auguri turned her attention to her own music during the pandemic after years working as a promoter and programmer. The work she produced churns the depths of her broad frame of reference – sacred music, cabaret, German modernism, generational trauma. Joanna’s own rich and twisting biography, is twined into the intricacies of her latest record, ‘Hiraeth’: fleeing martial law in Poland, leaving home in pursuit of after-dark hedonism, the years of building a new community in Berlin.
Named for the Welsh word describing profound longing and homesickness, ‘Hiraeth’ is a unique piece of storytelling whose strengths lie in its atmospheric arrangements and production. Joanna’s use of traditional German instruments, zither and accordion, laces the compositions with ideas about history, community, and homeland. That rich conceptual world conjured by that intriguing title, and the ensemble of old-timey instruments – organ, cellos, lap steel guitar, the haunting voices – is transporting, although at times one worries there might be more style than substance. The pleasure of the songwriting is in the images it evokes – gothic circuses, wet cobblestones, church spires against lightning – and in staging Joanna’s sacred, plaintive vocals which bring to mind the languid phrases of Weyes Blood. Joanna’s most memorable artistry on ‘Hiraeth’ is as a master projectionist, transporting her listeners to darker, more mysterious spaces, a la Vera Sola’s dark theatrics.
8/10
Words: Grace Marshall
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