photo courtesy of the Sydney Opera House c. 2025

hania rani live at the sydney opera house

ghosts world tour | february 25 2025 | neo classical

reviewed 7.03.2025 by Ben

Walking onto stage in complete darkness, Polish composer and singer Hania Rani started her Sydney Opera House debut in a curious manner—by carefully sampling a ham radio into one of the half a dozen microphones on stage. The mic, drenched in delay and otherworldly reverb, captured fragments of sound that would loop hauntingly throughout much of the introductory tracks. While her performance was in full-motion, it felt like Rani was battling her nerves. Glancing around at the legendary venue, now filled with a sold-out crowd, she seemed to retreat into the music rather than bask in the moment.

Surrounded by five sets of keys, including both a grand and upright piano, Rani moved between them with the precision and focus of a mad scientist working on a delicate experiment. There were moments where she had to awkwardly stretch to play across multiple instruments, but it only added to the sense of wonder, watching her craft these intricate pieces in real-time. At points, she hunched over the keys, utterly absorbed, as though the music had taken over completely. By the time she was looping squelching arpeggios and programming a hidden drum machine inside the grand piano (yes, really), her body language had transformed. She was bouncing, kicking, and nodding aggressively as if lost in the pulse of her own creations.

It wasn’t until well into half of the ninety-five-minute runtime that Rani paused playing and spoke to the crowd, her voice light and humorous as she compared the Sydney Opera House to Niagara Falls and other wonders she read about in Reader’s Digest as a child. At this point, there was a release of tension among the concert hall, as if to say - we could finally relax and take a breath. It was only a few short moments and remarks before she hurried back to her seat among the keyboards

As Rani continued, she seemed to pour more energy and this excitement was on full display, setting up high tempo loops that I couldn’t believe, that fit perfectly into the mix. During tracks like Buka and Don’t bother me, her dense layering of synths, pianos, and drum machines created a sound so full of life and textured it was hard to believe there was just one person on stage - somewhat akin to the great Thom Yorke’s performance outside just months prior.

Then, without much warning, she slowly closed off her set with a brief, understated exit, leaving the crowd hungry for One. More. Song.

By the time she walked back on stage for the now mandatory encore present in concert setlists, the crowd was fully standing and cheering watching her take a seat one last time. As she played her final piece; the pretty and careful Awful Lot, she showed some of most beautiful performance of the night - no doubt showing her training at the Fryderyk Chop University of Music all those years ago.

Unlike the rest of her set, which showcased various techniques present in neo-classical music that utilize all the technology available today, Awful Lot was stripped back, leaning into tradition. It wasn’t about wowing the audience but rather letting the elegance of the composition speak for itself. In that moment, she reminded everyone that sometimes, less is more.