Peiriant: Dychwelyd review – iridescent soundscapes summon spirit of the mountains

(NAWR Music)
Violinist Rose Linn-Pearl and sound artist husband Dan weave their artistry into a vivid collection evoking the natural wonders of their Welsh home

Peiriant pronounced pie-ree-ant) is a Welsh word for a machine or an engine, a fittingly eerie name for the atmospheric duo of violinist Rose and sound artist Dan Linn-Pearl. A couple who returned to their native Wales in recent years, and co-founded the Nawr concert series in Swansea and Hay-on-Wye (alongside free improvising harpist and Richard Dawson collaborator Rhodri Davies), their second album, Dychwelyd (pronounced Duh-ch-wel-id – returning), explores the idea of going back to a source in sound, marrying folk textures and techniques with shimmery, modulated guitars and post-rock drones.

Living in the mountainous Bannau Brycheiniog, through which the rivers Wye and Usk flow, Peiriant make music that is anchored to that landscape, revelling in its drama and delicacy, frills and fissures. Opener Taflu Dŵr (Throwing Water) begins with Rose hacking at her strings before her notes build to a cascade, her violin bursts sounding like the sprays of a river careering into the sea. Then come her folk-evoking fiddle melodies, giving a human dimension to tracks such as Carreg (Stone) and Llethr (Slope). They scrape and fight in the former against Dan’s subaquatic pulses, conveying a mighty power. In the latter, they soar blissfully above subtler, iridescent electronics, suggesting a kite in gentle flight.