“For two spellbound hours, time ceased to matter.”
In a city known for its mystics, dreamers, and rebels, FAUN returned to San Francisco on June 25th to deliver a concert experience that felt more like a full-blown invocation than a performance. Under the ornate ceiling of the Great American Music Hall, with its gilded balconies and whispering ghosts of jazz and rock legends past, the German pagan folk ensemble created a sonic altar—a timeless space suspended between myth and memory.
No openers. No distractions. This was An Evening with FAUN, and for two spellbound hours, time ceased to matter.
The evening opened with “Baldur”, a brooding and radiant piece centered around the doomed Norse god of light. It was a fitting invocation—equal parts sorrow and strength. Oliver SaTyr’s voice rang out like prophecy, the slow build of frame drum and nyckelharpa washing over the crowd in waves. The tone was clear: this was not a band playing songs—this was a ritual.
From there, “Diese kalte Nacht” sent a chill through the crowd, layering gothic melancholy over medieval instrumentation. Adaya de Baïracli Levy’s vocals cut through like a frost wind—aching, elegant, and human.
“Alba” glowed like sunrise. Rooted in Celtic imagery and tender harmonies, it gave the audience a breath of warmth before plunging into the primal fire of “Walpurgisnacht.” That track transformed the venue into a pagan revelry—audience members in cloaks, corsets, and antlers dancing to the heartbeat of frame drums and hurdy-gurdy. The spell was working.
“Nacht des Nordens” conjured stark landscapes—runes, ravens, ice. It was atmospheric and cinematic, the kind of track that makes you see snowfields in your mind’s eye. And then came a powerful moment: a solo hurdy-gurdy performance from Stephan Groth, blending medieval resonance with trance-like loops. It was wild, hypnotic, and wholly modern—a sonic time machine.
“Blaue Stunde” transformed the mood into an intimate and nostalgic one, the “blue hour” between night and dawn made manifest through flute and harp. Then the energy rose again with “Andro,” a classic Breton dance tune that whipped the crowd into motion. Even those unfamiliar with the steps were caught in the rhythm—hands clapping, feet stomping in 6/8 time.
“Tamlin” was a narrative high point—retelling the Scottish border ballad with eerie precision. The story of the fae-possessed knight felt almost too real in that setting. FAUN’s version leaned into the danger and seduction, with Laura’s voice taking on a fierce edge.
“Odin” was massive—booming drums, warlike cadence, and reverent chants echoing up to the rafters. It could’ve leveled Valhalla. By contrast, “Iduna” and “Galdra” were lush and sacred. The former delicate and life-giving; the latter a piece of living magic. Adaya’s voice, wrapped in whispers and incantations, felt like something pulled from beneath the earth.
“Wind & Geige” was pure poetry—wind and string in harmonic dialogue. It prepared the audience for the gorgeous finale of the main set: “Rhiannon.” The Welsh goddess galloped in on wings and hoofbeats, a triumphant end to the mythic journey.
The encore began in near silence with “Wenn wir uns wiedersehen,” a farewell song so tender it brought many in the crowd to tears. A farewell not just to the evening, but to something unspoken. The connection was thick—the audience and band had crossed something together.
And then, the curtain call: “Hymn to Pan.” A feral invocation of the horned god, echoing the poetry of Aleister Crowley and the ancient wildness of forest rites. It was raw, erotic, ecstatic—a final catharsis before the lights rose and the spell was broken.
FAUN doesn’t just perform—they summon. Their mastery of ancient instruments, layered harmonies, and mythopoetic storytelling was on full display at the Great American Music Hall. It was not a concert in the traditional sense, but a liminal journey—from light to shadow, from mortal to mythic, from longing to ecstatic release.
For those who were there, it wasn’t just an evening. It was a memory tattooed on the soul.
Setlist
- Baldur
- Diese kalte Nacht
- Alba
- Walpurgisnacht
- Nacht des Nordens
- Solo Hurdy Gurdy
- Blaue Stunde
- Andro
- Tamlin
- Odin
- Iduna
- Galdra
- Wind & Geige
- Rhiannon
Encore:
15. Wenn wir uns wiedersehen
16. Hymn to Pan
Photos by Scott Martin Photography
FAUN
