Protest, poetry and power: An evening spent under Lleuwen’s spell

Stephen Price

Only last month, groundbreaking Welsh artist, Lleuwen, announced a Wales-wide tour as part of a project that brings together PYST, Mentrau Iaith Cymru and the Arts Council of Wales’ Night Out scheme

The intention of the partnership is to re-introduce live music to rural areas of Wales and to audiences who would not normally have access to live Welsh language music locally.

With Newport an old stomping ground for university, friends and my first ‘proper’ job, it was a natural choice to head there to see one of Wales’ most cherished voices. To leave the car behind, to have a moment out, and to immerse myself a second time in one of Lleuwen’s live performances.

As the night drew closer, I made mental notes to bring a pad and a pen like a grown up, promising to write a proper review like a grown-up reviewer would, not store things in my chaotic brain or on a mobile phone. Easy…

Lleuwen’s ‘homecoming’ tour of sorts took place in Newport’s Menter Iaith venue, which is handily located at the entrance to the superb indoor food hall – a must for any visitor to the much-maligned but wonderfully Welsh ‘Port.

Making my way in to the venue, I spoke in Welsh for the first time in I-don’t-know-how-long and sat down and breathed.

Stopped.

Took in the moment.

And realised that the pen and pad were back home in sunny Abergavenny…

Seren y nos

Taking my place at the back of the venue to ensure minimum disturbance should notes have to be made on my phone, I not only clocked Lleuwen chatting before the performance, but also her adorable dog (and photo shoot sidekick) who had curled up on a chair near the bar.. near the mic.. and near the people who thought they’d made their way to Newport to witness one of Welsh language music’s leading voices.

Turns out, we were all there to fuss Lleuwen’s beautiful hound, Lapous. Star quality? Envy-inducing hair? Yes, we all had to say ‘shwmae’..

Unexpectedly, before Lleuwen took to the microphone, the audience was treated to a moving set from Y Llais standout performer, Kat Rees, whose honeyed vocals seemed heaven sent, and even more special thanks to expert piano accompaniment from Tom Barber.

An hour of blissful music, and evidence of the importance of shows such as Y Llais – to give a platform to up-and-coming Welsh talent, and to remember what it’s all for outside of the machine’s demand for tacky marketing, same-y packaging and mass-market vapidity.

As Lleuwen prepared for her set, it was time.. Lapous was all mine..

Or was he? No, wait, he had rounds to do.. Pizza to flutter eyelashes for. The tart.

Y Rheswm

A slight pause between sets gave more chances to speak Welsh with friends old and new (this is why we need more Welsh language music events such as this – they’re about so much more than music!), and Lleuwen’s set began.

Now, despite reading and adapting the press release for Nation Cymru’s readers, I came with preconceptions.

I expected to hear the latest evolution of Lleuwen’s Tafod Arian project – an innovative marriage of historical voices, sounds, hymns and something that can’t quite be described.. music like never heard before – a coming together of ages.. preservation.. honouring of ancestral voices.. honouring of a Wales that is no more.

This night, however, wasn’t Tafod Arian’s. It was all Lleuwen’s (sorry Lapous).

Tafod Arian still has work to do, new places to go, perhaps a permanent home to find, and while it continues to shape-shift, the restless musician has a new body of work bubbling to the surface that is soon to make its way to a recording studio.

At the outset, Lleuwen ‘apologised’ for any imperfections that were to follow. This was a night of new music (what!?), but a few old reliables included for good measure.

Between spoken recollections, Lleuwen took the audience on a journey through Wales and womanhood with the simple yet limitless marriage of voice and guitar – from Welsh giants, to protest, right through to the grim-old-days of Brexit. The sacred and the profane, the divine and the mundane.

I’m looking back over my ridiculous phone notes and little matters now.. ‘words are meaningless and forgettable’ and all that – they simply can’t convey the wonder of Lleuwen’s music.

To focus on a few songs though, one that really summed up the night, the music, the defiant protest, was one called Park and Ride. An unexpected title for a Welsh language song, you’d think? But one that perhaps sums up Wales in 2026..

Lleuwen discussed travelling back home to north Wales from her home in Brittany and being met with signs for a park and ride in her old milltir sgwar. Her community hollowed out to accommodate the never-ending onslaught of tourists..

She discussed the dystopian feeling of lost indigenous names, lost communities, lost soul. But, dear audience, they have a park and ride now!

The emotion in her voice as she sang about her grandfather’s house now being an AirBnB.. the harsh reality of Wales’ subservient, spineless ineptitude as a nation without its independence – at the whim of a global superpower, at the whim of the tourists whose money we’re told we need, yet so few of us really see.

Other songs discussed gratitude, as well as patriarchy and the damage done to women and girls by playing life meekly in the shadows, holding back.

Another song mentioned Naughty Norman Price from Fireman Sam. Nope, I didn’t see that coming either. But what a touching, heartfelt song.

Again, as with Park and Ride, the power in letting poetry reflect reality, the real goings-on, a moment between mother and child freed from the same old tired, blinkered cliches.

 

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And to end? An old hymn, of course.

Turns out, I really didn’t need my pen and pad after all. Music this good, performance this good, a voice this good, moments like this you just do not forget.

Lleuwen is a musician at the top of her game, an artist of many talents and facets that only Wales could have created.

Freed from the over-arching Tafod Arian set that I’d expected to hear, Lleuwen’s voice and poetry were centre-stage, free of the intellect and decoding perhaps needed for a more conceptual performance.

And unlike so many artists with a platform nowadays, she has something to say. And we are so very, very lucky that we are here, right now, and able to hear it.

Remaining Tour Dates (pay at the door or see venue websites beforehand)

14.02: Y Fic, Llithfaen
15.02: Gwesty Owain Glyndŵr, Corwen
19.02: Caffi Beca, Efailwen
20.02: Y Porth, Llandysul
21.02: Caffi Lolfa, Burry Port