Astrid Williamson: Shetland Suite review – a beautiful enchantment

<span>‘Yearning stillness’: Astrid Williamson.</span><span>Photograph: James Kendall</span>
‘Yearning stillness’: Astrid Williamson.Photograph: James Kendall

Born and raised in Shetland and classically trained at the Royal Conservatoire of Scotland in Glasgow, Astrid Williamson was pulled back to her homeland by her mother’s turn to dementia and subsequent death. Shetland Suite, Williamson’s 10th album (including one fronting alt rockers Goya Dress), is an affecting tribute to her mother, a piano teacher, who even in the grip of dementia would sing these songs. Most are written in Shetland’s rich dialect, with one in Old Norse, and there are also instrumentals recalled from Williamson’s early violin lessons.

She plays, sings and produces everything, casting a yearning, sepulchral stillness over many of the numbers, with scant instrumentation beyond piano, discreet electronica and occasional gusts of wind and wave, relying on her vocals, often multi-tracked, to do the work. It all works perfectly. Unst Boat Song is an antique chant that is both celebration of sailing and a ward against bad weather. Da Narrowa Wheel is a mesmeric work song to accompany spinning. King Orfeo is a well-known ballad, with a harp-playing king (Orpheus) rescuing his wife from the faerie world, while Da Selkie Wife’s Sang is a minimalist modern piece that captures the islands’ weft of seashore and sky. A beautiful enchantment of place and memory.