In conversation with Cerys Hafana

Cerys Hafana is a composer and multi-instrumentalist who mangles, mutates, and transforms traditional music. Exploring the unique possibilities and qualities of the triple harp through ethereal compositions and reworkings of traditional songs, they are forging the future of the Welsh tradition in the UK, Europe and beyond. Ahead of their highly-anticipated performance at St George’s on Thu 2 Oct, we caught up with them to find out more about their music, approach and the importance of true expression.

Going back to the start, what first sparked your love for folk music and ignited your passion for the triple harp?

We had to do folk dancing in primary school as part of the Welsh Eisteddfod competition tradition. I just completely loved it—I think I was the only child in Wales who loved it! I’m not from a family of folk musicians at all so my first time hearing that music was it being played on an out-of-tune school piano to accompany the dancing, and something about it really appealed to me. Then, a couple of years later, I went on a harp workshop when I was about 8, and the harpist leading the workshop explained how the notes are arranged and I realised it’s quite similar to the piano. I could already play the piano a little bit, so at the end of the workshop, I had a go on this harp, managed to play Twinkle Twinkle Little Star and thought that made me a genius. Then it was an accident really that the teacher I went to specialised in folk music rather than classical and played the triple harp. She’s pretty much the only person in Wales who was teaching the triple harp—which was total luck because she lived just down the road from us. I didn’t start playing the triple harp until about three years into learning and had no idea what it was or its significance but then fell in love with it as soon as I started.

For you, how important are original compositions to the preservation and continuation of folk tradition?

This is a big topic of discussion in the Welsh folk scene—probably in any folk scene. I’ve often found myself caught in between it or being forced onto one side of it. I think all that heritage and the people who play the pieces and are continuing to perform and teach them and to document them are doing incredibly important work. That is the history and it’s so culturally valuable and threatened. But I have always struggled with the idea that there’s one way of playing a particular tune and only one way of playing you’re instrument and everything else is stepping away from that. I think folk music is—as are all times of music—in a constant state of evolution. The evolution isn’t a new thing, or something I’ve invented for the triple harp. It’s happened for centuries and the harp has existed for millennia so I guess the idea of pinpointing one particular style and one particular era as being the ‘Welsh style’ seems wrong to me. So I guess in my head it’s not a conflict because I do think that what I’m doing is just continuing that tradition. There are triple harpists of an older generation who are very deeply connected to the history who also say this—that coming up with your own arrangements and having your own take on it is a part of the tradition, rather than being at odds with it.

You’ve spoken about your interest in presenting music that doesn’t fit into our collective idea of what Welsh folk music is. Can you tell us a little more about this approach and how it affects the sound you create?

I have been very inspired by the actual technicalities of the instrument since I started writing for it. It has the three rows of strings, with the two outer rows tuned like the white notes of a piano and two of each note. Having two of each note is something you have on barely any other instrument and it allows you to play patterns with almost an echo effect and open sound because you’re not having to mute the note—it can ring. That has probably been the greatest thing that has led me down non-traditional sonic avenues with the instrument. I think it also really lends itself to really minimalist-inspired styles of writing. I’ve also spent my life listening to quite a broad range of music. I listen to quite a lot of alternative pop and electronic music, folk music and classical music, and I think letting those influences come through without doing it consciously—just seeing what happens as I write and not trying to stop it for the sake of it sounding more traditional—is how I approach writing for the triple harp.

What and who inspires you?

Generally, anyone who seems unafraid to do their own thing with a tradition and bring their own spin to it, and to embrace the parts of their cultural heritage that are unique. Whether it’s the language, the instrument, or their way of performing, someone who is unashamed at bringing their own spin and expressing themselves in a way that’s most true to them in this day and age.

We can’t wait to welcome you to St George’s. What can our audiences expect on the night?

I will mostly be performing music from my new album which is coming out on Friday 26 September—just before the concert at St George’s. There will be at least one other musician with me which I’m really excited about—a musician who plays on the album. I think St George’s will be a perfect venue for performing this music. A lot of the new album is based around a song I found in the Welsh National Archive about a man who hears an angel in the trees and falls asleep for 350 years because the angel sings to him. So St George’s will be the perfect setting for that.

As we move into Autumn, what are you most looking forward to?

The album release is the main thing. It has a slightly different instrumentation and a different feel to anything I’ve done before so I’m excited to share that and to capture it live on the tour in October and November.

If you were to leave us with one track to change our week, what would it be?

There’s a track by Polish jazz pianist Łukasz Ojdana and a choir of traditional Polish singers called Kraska that I’ve been completely obsessed with for a year. I feel like it does everything my brain wants music to do.

Words by Louise Goodger